Hero
by The Minsk
Summary: Future-Fic. After High School, Finn joins the Army to make something of himself and learns what it means to be a true hero.
1. A Woman's Love

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy :)

A/N:**NEW STORY** Buckle your seat-belts kids, you're in for quite the ride.

**Hero**

**Chapter One: A Woman's Love**

"NO! NO NO NO NO NO!" Carole Hudson screamed at her son, louder and more forceful than he'd ever heard her scream. Louder than the time he ran over the mailman.

"Mom, please calm down!" Finn put his hands up, defensively, trying to placate his hysterical mother. This wasn't going as well as he'd planned it in his head.

"No! I will not calm down! I can't calm down. **NO**!" She was pacing around the living room, her hands twisting around themselves in an anxious tick. Her face was rigid with pain, and he could see tears streaming down her cheeks. He burned with shame. He'd known that she would be upset, but he'd never thought she'd be this upset. He couldn't do this to her. She was never going to give him her blessing.

He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Burt peeking out at the two of them from the kitchen. He shot a pleading look to his quasi-step-father, hoping Burt would know what to do. He could see Kurt behind him as well, watching the conversation with anxious curiosity. Burt looked solemn, but made no move to interrupt the conversation. He gave a hard, solid nod to Finn, giving him the encouragement to continue. With a deep breath, Finn turned back around to his mother, ready to plead his case.

"Mom, you know I didn't get into college. I've accepted that. I know sometimes I'm too dumb to function, but I never thought I wouldn't get into a decent college. I didn't even get into Allen Community!" She stopped pacing, and looked at Finn with nothing but desperation and fear in her gaze. "Everyone is leaving, Mom. Rachel, Kurt, heck, even Puck and Quinn! I don't want to be stuck in Lima without an education or a career. I think this is my one good shot to make something of myself." Carole stopped pacing, and looked at her one and only son with nothing but desperation and fear in her eyes.

"The answer is no, Finn. No." She started to walk away, thinking that her word had been final, but Finn wasn't done yet.

"I'm 18 now, Mom. You can't stop me from enlisting if I want to." She stopped on her way to the kitchen, frozen from the truth of the statement. She turned around to look at her son with something akin to betrayal in her eyes.

"It was bad enough that I lost Christopher, Finn. If I lost you too, I don't know what I would do with myself. Do you understand that? Do you?" Finn looked down the ground, the shame returning, burning him, weakening his resolve. "And what about Rachel? Does she know yet, Finn? How do you think she's going to feel when she finds out her boyfriend wants to join the Army?" He winced from the sting of truth, knowing full well that if his mother was this hysterical, Rachel would probably be much, much worse.

"She'll understand. She has to. She always understands me." Saying it with all the conviction in the world, he knew it was the truth. Rachel had always known what he was thinking, feeling. Hell, she knew better than he did most of the time. They were always in perfect sync with the other, something that had kept their relationship strong for the past two years. "I have to do this, Mom. If I ever want to have a life with Rachel after she's done with school, than I need to have an education and a career. The Army can give that to me. I'll go for the few years, come home, and they'll pay for my entire education. And you know how bad things are getting in the Middle East. The Army needs recruits, and being a soldier is in my blood. I'll be a hero, just like Dad was."

"Yes, Finn. But your father also died a hero's death. Is that what you want? Is that what you want for me and Rachel?" She broke down into sobs, collapsing onto the brown armchair that had once belonged to her husband. Her hero. He went over to his mother, and dropped to his knees in front of her, looking at her at eye level, trying to get her to understand.

"Mom, I have to do this. I _need_ to do this."

She looked up at him, and he could hear the anguish in her tone. "Why?"

"Because I know I'm more than just a dumb jock who wasn't good enough for a scholarship. Rachel is going to Juilliard. _Juilliard_, Mom! The best music school in New York City. What's going to happen when she gets there? She's going to meet a million other guys who are just as awesome at music as she is, and she's never going to pick a Lima Loser over them. I need to prove to her, and to myself, that I can be responsible and successful. I just need this chance."

She closed her eyes, and continued her sobs. He looked over at Kurt and Burt in desperation and the two Hummel men shared matching looks of incredulity, shaking their heads in sync while shrugging their shoulders. All of a sudden, she stood up abruptly, walking past Finn and over to the picture of Private First Class Christopher Hudson, hanging on the wall. She touched his face and smiled lightly. "I remember the day he told me about joining the Army. I was furious. Hysterical. Just like today. We were married and broke after he'd lost his job at the factory in Ada. I'd told him I didn't want him to go, and he turned around and said, 'Carrie, honey, I want to have the chance to prove myself to you. That we can support a family.'" She turned to her son, furious again. "He saw you once, Finn! Once! He came home one time after you were born and then he went back and was gone. He'd never _had_ the chance to prove himself to me! Is that a risk you're willing to make?"

He stood up straight, reaching his full height, knowing that he had to take ownership of his decision. He wasn't going to be the one left behind. He was a leader. Being a soldier was in his blood. He was doing this for his future and Rachel's as well. What had happened to his Dad had been an accident. Finn would know better, he would never let what happened to his Dad happen to him. "Yes."

She started to nod her head, slowly, trying to absorb the reality of the situation.

Her son was going to join the Army. To fight in a war halfway around the world. Against the same people who took her husband from her.

Burt came up to her, finally, after a tense minute where Carole seemed to realize that there would be no talking Finn out of his decision. He was going to enlist regardless of her tears and her cries. Finn sighed. He never wanted to hurt his mother like this, but he knew more than anyone that sometimes a mother's love could be overwhelming. They were all the other had for sixteen years before she'd met Burt, and even though the Hummel-Hudsons functioned as a quasi-family, they were still dependent on the other.

"Alright. There's nothing I can say that's going to change your mind. I get that. I'm not happy with your choice, but I'll respect it, because I love you. And if you think you have to do this, then do it." Burt wrapped an arm around Carole's shoulders in support and she leaned into his embrace. "But don't think Rachel is going to take the news any better than I did. Trust me, I know too well how she'll be feeling, and it's not going to be pretty."

He half-smiled, thinking of his girlfriend and how she managed to look adorable even when she was furiously angry. "I think I'll be able to handle it."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was not able to handle it.

Rachel sat on his lap, on his bed, sobbing uncontrollably into his embrace as he rocked her back and forth, trying to calm her down. He could feel his heart clenching in his chest at the sound of her heaving breaths, and his shirt was soaked with her tears. She hadn't said a word to him, only cried endlessly, collapsing into herself as he held her tightly.

He'd never seen her cry like this before. Rachel Berry yelled, screamed, raged, stormed out, and pouted, but she never hysterically cried like this before. At least, not in front of him. He barely knew what to do. So he just held her and let her cry it all out.

"Shh, Rachel, It'll be okay." He didn't think it was possible, but she started to cry even more. A harsh, sharp sob of hysteria escaped her lips as she clutched his shirt in her fists.

"How can you say that? How can you say that you going to the Army is okay?" She looked up at him and her eyes were bloodshot and liquid with tears. "You don't know that, Finn. I can't even begin to think about what could happen to you."

"Don't Rachel, I'm going to be fine." He rubbed her back in soothing circles that had little to no effect on her hysteria.

"You don't know that! Anything could happen Finn, it's _war_! You know how bad things have been getting over there in Afghanistan and Pakistan. It just keeps getting worse!" He knew deep down she was right; terrorist activity had been increasing steadily over the year, which was the main reason the Army needed recruits.

"Rachel, I didn't get into school. You know that. I don't have any other choice."

"Of course you have a choice! You could find a trade, get a job, do something in Lima."

"I refuse to be stuck in Lima pumping gas and changing tires when I could be making something out of myself." He held her close to him, kissing her face in every spot he could reach. He kissed her temples and her hair. He kissed the tears that trailed down her face. He kissed her full, pouting lips, petal-soft and sweet like honey. "Rachel, I'm doing this for us. For our future. I refuse to hold you back. When I get back, I'll go to school, and we can start a life together. You'll see. It'll all be perfect, I have it all planned out."

"But life doesn't always go as planned, Finn. We've been together for a long time, and you should know by now that you could never hold me back. I love you."

"I love you too, Rachel. But I can't just sit by and watch all my friends move on without me. I have to move on as well. And then we can be together, I promise."

"What about your Mom? You can't honestly sit there and tell me that she's okay with her only son going off to the Army. Especially with everything that happened to your dad."

He looked away from her guiltily, thinking about his previous conversation with his mother. She was still furious at him, and would barely speak to him. Every time he'd tried to talk to her, she would cry. It wasn't helping his resolve, but he knew that he had to stand up for his choices. "She's not in love with the idea, but it doesn't matter. I'm going."

She shook her head over and over, trying to ignore his statement. "I don't like this, Finn. I really don't."

"Listen, I think I could actually be good at it, you know? Being a soldier. You know how much I love first person shooters!"

She looked at him angrily. "War is not a video game, Finn! There are no restarts, no do-overs. You get shot, you're dead. End of story."

He sighed and took her hands in his. he loved the women in his life, he really did, but they were so overprotective! "Remember how you always used to tell me that I was a leader, someone who could take control of a situation when no one else could? I feel like I could actually be happy in the Army. I've thought about it a lot. I didn't make this decision overnight." She looked away from him, hiding her face in his shoulder again. He lifted up her face by her chin and looked into her chocolate brown eyes. "I've read the pamphlets and looked on the web site. I can do great things for the Army, Rachel. I can save people. I can be a hero."

She smiled at him, softly, sadly. "You're already my hero."

And her lips crashed to his, sealing the statement with a kiss.

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Salut mes amis!

Get ready for Mega Angst, more angst than you could ever imagine. Don't worry, Finn isn't going to die, I promise.

Also, follow me on Twitter, my name is TheMinsk. The link is on my profile page!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	2. The Final Summer

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: OK, I'll say it again for those of you who may need to be reassured: I WILL NOT KILL FINN. No matter what I write about in the next three or four chapters, Finn will live at the end and he and Rachel will live happily ever after. I PROMISE. Trust The Minsk, she knows what she's doing.

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Two: The Final Summer**

A hot, dry breeze blew through Rachel's hair as she stood with her friends in a semi-circle in Finn's driveway, clapping and singing along with the band. Puck, Finn and Artie created the ultimate garage band last year, something that had re-established Puck and Finn's rocky friendship. Now during their final summer in Lima, they promised a show every night until Labor Day so they could still see their friends before everyone went their separate paths in the fall. It was their goal to make this the most memorable summers of their lives. Not one day would go by where they wouldn't see each other, even if it was in passing, and every night the crowd got a little bit bigger. Now, on the Fourth of July, half the town was standing on Carole Hudson's front yard. Some even brought lawn-chairs and coolers. The neighbors set up barbecues on their front lawns, and everyone was enjoying the music while waiting for the sun to set, so the fireworks could start.

She smiled at Finn, pounding away on the drums like a maniac, throwing himself fully into the song while Puck screamed the lyrics that fit his personality so well.

"And yeah! _This sex is on fire_!" She saw him make eye contact with Quinn in the audience, wagging his eyebrows suggestively while grinding his hips against his guitar. She had her arms crossed, but an amused smiled graced her features while he went over to Santana and did the same thing. Rachel shook her head, a bit fondly. Puck was a player for life, but Quinn had always been his number one girl. She had no idea how Quinn was able to put up with him for so long, even after they gave the baby up for adoption, but they somehow made it work despite his playboy tendencies.

Turning her head to stare, transfixed, at Finn while he pounded on the drums, she was grateful that she had someone who wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. They'd been together for years, and she had no intention of breaking up with him, at all.

But he was joining the Army. The _Army_. He was going away, across an ocean, halfway around the world, to fight against something so terrifyingly real and dangerous. He could get hurt, shot, _killed_ . . .

She shook her head, trying to erase that thought from her head. She couldn't think that way. She had to be positive. She had to be supportive of him and his decision. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking of the worst. She wished that he'd asked her for extra tutoring sessions last summer instead of spending every second with the band; maybe he would have had a better chance of getting into a local school. But the past was the past, and now she had to look towards the future.

Her future was in New York. Finn's future was in the Army. But she would never give up on him. She would wait for him as long as it took.

The sounds of clapping and cheering brought her out of her stupor as she saw Puck finishing up the chords to the song. She made eye contact with Finn as he was slamming his drumsticks down to the beat, and she blushed under the intense look he was giving her. It was the same way he looked at her every time he played the drums around her. She called it his "drum face."

And boy, did it turn her on.

"Alright guys, we're _Punch Kick_, thanks for coming out! The fireworks should start soon!" Rachel clapped wildly for her boyfriend's band, even though she wasn't a fan of the name. Puck totally thought up _that_ gem of a moniker.

She went over to the giant cooler to grab a few water bottles for the boys, and when she went over to the garage, she couldn't find Puck or Finn. She asked Artie, who was unplugging the cables, where they went, and he pointed to the side of the garage where it led to the backyard. She started to walk around the side of the house, when she heard snippets of a conversation. Normally she wasn't one to easedrop, especially on her boyfriend, but she inched closer to the backyard, trying not to make a sound.

She could hear Puck's deep voice laughing, and she heard the crack of a can opening. "I swiped these from the Johnson's cooler, you want one?"

"No thanks, Rachel doesn't like it when I drink beer."

"Dude, she has you so whipped it's ridiculous."

"If I'm whipped it's because I choose to be whipped. I love her. I want her to be happy."

"And how happy is she that you're going all G.I. Joe on everyone's asses?"

She heard Finn sigh deeply, and her pulse started racing. "She's not happy, at all. But she understands. She gets it more than anyone else does."

"I was thinking." Her breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Noah speak in such a soft tone before. "Maybe I could sign up too. Come with you. We could be a kick-ass terrorist fighting machine. Like Jack Bauer. Except there would be two of us." The thought of Puck joining the fray as well made her want to scream. It was bad enough her one and only love was going, now Puck wanted to trail along too like it was a paintball game.

"No." Was Finn's firm reply. "No, you have to stay here."

She heard a beer can slam into the siding of the house. Beer splashed inches away from where she was standing, spying on her boyfriend and his best friend. "What the fuck, man? We've been buds for life. Besides that whole baby shit--"

"Which I'll hold over you until the day I die--"

"We've been like brothers! I could have your back! Yeah, I'm following Quinn to Columbus, but I'm going into construction, I'm not going to school. It would be better for me if I did something useful with myself, like you're doing."

"I said no, Puck." She could tell both Finn and Puck were starting to get angry.

"Why the fuck not, asswipe?"

"Because you have to be the one to look after Rachel if I don't come home."

It felt like the world was crashing around her. He'd never acknowledged the fact that there was a possibility he might not come home. Every time she brought it up, he shook it off his shoulders, telling her not to worry. Hearing him admit that there was a chance he might not return was like a battering ram to her heart.

"Finn, man, don't _say_ shit like that."

"I'm serious. You have to promise me that you'll look after Rachel if I don't come back. You and Quinn have to take care of her. My mom has Burt, I know she'll be taken care of. But Rachel will be in New York, all alone, and I'm holding you responsible for her while I'm gone. Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

She turned around and ran back to the front yard, pushing through the people who were starting to set up fireworks. She couldn't hear anymore of this, _planning_, for the scenarios she couldn't bear to think of, she needed to get away. Running into the Hudson house, she ran straight for Finn's bedroom. She closed the door behind her and collapsed face-down onto his bed, inhaling his scent and trying to block the sound of his voice from her mind.

_"You have to be the one to look after Rachel if I don't come home. . ."_ Just the thought of Finn leaving and never coming back made her feel like her chest was caving in on itself. She took harsh, ragged breaths as she felt the moisture pool in her eyes. She started to cry into Finn's pillow, holding it close to her chest as if it were him. She didn't want him to go.

A loud boom outside of his window signaled Rachel to the start of the fireworks, but she made no move to leave Finn's room. She knew she should really join her friends, she was missing out on something they'd been planning for weeks, but she couldn't will herself to move. She tried to bury herself into his bed even more, escaping from the bright flashes of light and screeching explosions. She had her head so far buried into the pillows, she didn't hear the sound of Finn entering his room to put away his drumsticks.

"Rachel? I've been looking all over for you!" She turned around and saw Finn staring at her frozen body on the bed. "What's the matter, baby?" He went over to her and sat next to her on the bed, rubbing her back in calming circles.

"N-Nothing." She lied.

"Are you feeling okay? You didn't eat Mr. Gruber's kielbasa did you?"

She shook her head into the pillow, trying not to look at his face. "I heard you talking to Puck."

The calming circles stopped, and his hand rested on the small of her back. "Oh."

She sat up then, sitting up on her knees so she could be at eye level with him. She placed her palms against his chest and fell into his embrace. "You better come back to me, do you understand me Finn Hudson?"

He nodded against her head, wrapping his arms around her. "Yes."

"Good. Because, Puck? Seriously? He can barely take care of a goldfish, he'll never be able to keep up with life in New York City alone."

She could hear the amusement in his voice. "That's why he has Quinn."

"Yeah, and she still sometimes slips and calls me 'cankles.' She's never going to be my best friend."

"Rachel. . ."

"No, Finn! I don't want them. I want _you_!" She pulled away from him, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

"You have me, Rachel. I'm right here." His arms wrapped around her again and she tried to forget for a moment that he was leaving. That in about eight weeks he'll be off to Boot Camp and on his way into the military. "We should get outside, we're missing the fireworks."

"Screw the fireworks." She pressed her lips to his, quickly, desperately, trying to lose herself in the feeling of their love instead of dwelling on the inevitable. He parted her lips with his tongue and explored her mouth while her hands trailed all over his broad chest, coming to rest on his belt buckle. He broke apart from the kiss and gave Rachel an incredulous look.

"We can't! Half the town is in my front yard!"

"Yeah, and it's not like there's anything to distract them, like, I don't know, a giant fireworks display?" She shot him a coy smile as she started to unbuckle his pants. She didn't care about the people outside, she needed comfort, she needed her man.

Rachel reached for Finn's belt again as his hands started to fondle her chest lightly. He pulled off his pants as she reached under her skirt to pull off her panties. She lifted up her skirt around her waist as Finn climbed on top of her. She could still remember the times in the very beginning of their relationship when he'd last about two minutes, and then spend the rest of the day trying to make it up to her in various ways. She could remember the day she went on the pill, and the look on Finn's face when he realized he didn't have to wear condoms anymore. But right now, while he pumped and thrust into her, causing colors to flash in her vision and making her feel like she was falliing apart and coming together at the same time, she knew that she would never forget the feeling of pure love that radiated out of his every pore.

She whispered his name as she felt the delicious buildup inside of her, growing and spreading through her like a wildfire. Her body felt like it was shooting sparks out of her as the tension snapped and consumed her body in pleasure. She reveled in the aftershocks as he finished, collapsing onto her shaking body and holding her close as he pulled out of her.

She tried to move out of his grasp so she could pull down her skirt, but his grip on her was vice-like and tense. She turned to look at his face, and he was looking away from her. She could hear his stilted breaths, and she realized with a shock that now _he_ was the one who was crying.

"Finn?" She had never seen him cry in all the years she'd known him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm gonna miss you so much." He lifted up his head to make eye contact with her and she felt her own tears start to fall once again when she noticed the shining tracks on his cheeks. He'd been like a brick wall with his emotions, all summer, not showing anyone a speck of vulnerability in regards to the Army. He'd been trying to prove to people that he was strong enough to deal with his emotions and the reality of the situation. For him to be crying in front of her, admitting his pain, was a big deal.

She had to choke down a massive lump in her throat in order to speak. "I'm going to miss you, too."

"Rachel, If I don't come back--" She placed a hand over his mouth, stopping the words from escaping his lips.

"No, Finn, I don't want to hear it, I can't hear it--"

He gently removed her hand and she braced herself. "If I don't come back, I just want you to know how much I love you. And no matter what happens, you have to promise me you'll become the star you've always dreamed of being."

"Finn--"

He interrupted her again, and she could hear the cracking of emotion in his voice. "You're _going_ to Juilliard, then you're _going_ to be a star, okay?"

"Okay, Finn. Okay." She tried to manage a shaky smile, and he closed the distance between them in a soft kiss. He reached down to pull his pants back up as she straightened herself out and slipped on her panties. The couple held hands as they walked back into the front yard, joining their friends who were all gathered around the garage.

"Hey, catch!" Puck tossed a can of coke to both Finn and Rachel as they joined their friends to look at the fireworks. Rachel smiled as she looked up into the sky to see an explosion of color and light. She looked over at Finn who was covered in a yellow glow. He wrapped an arm around her and held her to his side. He cleared his throat loudly, and all the gleeks turned to look at their unofficial leader. Holding up his coke can, she smiled as her friends all followed suit.

"To friends, and a summer we'll never forget!"

"Cheers!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Oh yeah, I slipped in some citrus without a warning! Bad Minsk!

Until Next Time *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois!

The Minsk


	3. Boot Camp

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Now, I was never in the Army/Navy, but my sister's boyfriend was a Paratrooper, and I got a lot of my info from him. I don't know too much about specifics, so if I write something that is completely wrong, please let me know. I'm a sucker for continuity.

**Hero**

**Chapter Three: Boot Camp**

It was a gray, rainy Saturday in September, the day that Finn left for the Army. He stood in his front yard with Rachel at his side and marveled at the crowd of people who had all gathered to say goodbye to him. He couldn't even remember meeting half of these people, but they all shook his hand and treated him like he was an old friend getting ready for a long journey.

He smiled politely as he waited for everyone to say their goodbyes. Most of his friends from glee club had already left for school; he'd said his personal goodbyes to them weeks ago. Rachel had actually come back from New York for the weekend so she could be with him as much as possible before he left. She hadn't left his side all morning.

But now it was time to go. He had to be at the recruitment offices to catch the bus to the airport at 10am, and he could tell he was running out of time from how Rachel had started to hold onto his shirt. He could feel her hands making tight fists in his clothes, and he saw the crowd begin to disperse and go their seperate ways.

Before long, the only people on the Hudson front lawn were Carole, Burt, Finn and Rachel. They all went to Burt's car to accompany Finn to the bus. Throughout the entire ride, he could see Rachel fidgeting nervously, playing with her hair and the hem of her clothing to distract herself. Nudging her with his shoulder, she turned to him with a shaky smile. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly as the small car made it's way across town. All of a sudden, he could feel her small hands running through his hair, scratching his scalp with her fingernails.

"What's the matter?"

He could hear the cracking of emotion in her voice as she pouted deeply and sighed, "I'm going to miss your hair."

"Me too."

"They're going to shave it all off." She sounded like the world was coming to an end.

"I know. But it will grow back when I come home."

"Yeah, but still." He could hear her hiccups, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears.

He was too. Not because of the hair, though.

The car pulled up in front of the recruitment office, and Finn could see some other men standing in wait for the bus. Some of them wore uniforms, some of them had casual clothes on.

This was it.

He got out of the car with Rachel and his mother following him. He took them both by the hand, and walked over to the Officer with a clipboard. The commanding officer took one look at Finn, with a crying woman on each arm, and nodded his head.

"What's your name, son?"

"Finn Hudson, sir."

The man scratched his name off of the list and looked over at the sobbing women attached to Finn in a death grip. "You've got about five minutes, son. Make them count." The officer shot Finn a sympathetic look as he went to gather up the other recruits.

He turned to his mother first, and wrapped his arms around her while she rambled about safety and precautions. "Remember to always keep the safety on any guns they give you! Watch out for land mines, I saw an awful documentary on them on 20/20 last week. Did you even see _The Hurt Locker_?. . ."

"Mom, this is just boot camp. I'll be coming home again before they ship me out. I'll see you in four months." She gave him one last lingering kiss on the cheek before returning to the car with Burt. Once she was gone, Finn took a deep breath and turned around to the other crying girl by his side.

Rachel.

He could tell she was about to lose it at any second. Her face was beat red and tight with emotion. He could see the glistening tears gather in her eyes while she looked from soldier to soldier, absorbing the reality of the situation in front of her. Wide, scared eyes met his, and he could feel his resolve breaking under her gaze. All he wanted to do was hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. She broke the silence first.

"So, four months, huh?" Her hands were crossed tightly over her chest, and it almost looked like she was trying to hold herself together. He pulled her to him, trying memorize the way she felt in his arms. The way she smelled. The look in her eyes.

"Four months, Rachel. Then I can see you before they ship me out. We'll be together for the holidays." She smiled then, finally, the ghost of one gracing her soft features. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on her willing lips, and he could hear the officers calling the recruits to the bus. Mahogany eyes, wide with fear, met his, and he kissed her again, trying to ease the stress from her tense body.

"I guess this is goodbye." Her lips were turned out in the most heartbreaking pout he'd ever seen in two years of dating.

"It's not goodbye, Rachel. It's 'see you soon'. I love you."

With another shaky smile, he could tell she was losing it. The flood gates were beginning to open. "I love you, too." Capturing her lips in one final kiss, he steeled his resolve, waved goodbye to his family, and got on the bus.

Rachel's face was the last thing he saw out of his window as the bus pulled away, and he said a quiet goodbye to his family and his life as a civilian.

After today, he was a soldier.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Welcome to OSUT, One Station Unit Training. Today you are shedding your civilian skin and joining the ranks of the brave and strong men and women who fight to protect this nation from the many dangers we face in our modern world." Finn stood in rapt attention in front of his commanding officer, soaking in every word that came out of the weathered man's mouth. He was older, and Finn could tell that this man had seen his share of combat over the years. He walked with a bit of a limp, and it looked like he was missing a chunk of his right ear.

"Every morning, you are up at 0500 hours, is that clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Finn joined the chorus of soldiers, following their lead.

"We run cadence every morning, which means that we all run together, as a unit, every morning from 5:30 to 6 in full training gear. Then we train, every day until dusk or later. Rain, snow, sleet, hurricanes, you will train in it all. We _will_ have night drills, along with a full week of night training. I hope you boys don't need sleep. Sleep is for the dead." He could hear the low groans of some guys behind him, and the severe officer turned in Finn's direction, looking for the source of the complaints.

"Did I just hear a complaint from over here?" The man looked Finn right in the eyes and he straightened himself out even more, keeping the stoic facade on his face as a self-preservation tactic.

"No sir!" He replied.

"Good, because all complaints are met with my boot up your ass! You are no longer civilians, you are soldiers! Infantry men! Enlisted officers of the United States Army, and we do not suffer through any complaints." He gave Finn a once-over, curled his lip, and started to pace around again, like before.

"From now on you are all Grunts! Maggots! Our country depends on you to fight the battles, and my job is to make you all into the toughest sons-a-bitches to walk this glorious green earth. You are all soldiers, and after basic training, you'll pick your AIT, your Advanced Individualized Training. Then you'll graduate as a Private, and get your assignment. Are we all clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was waiting for it. The moment when he realized that he was making a mistake, that he wasn't made to be a soldier. Every day, he waited for the epiphany that he wasn't cut out for this kind of training and hard work, and that he was unhappy with his decision to join the army.

He waited and waited, but it never came.

It turned out that Finn was actually _happy_ in the army.

Yes, the first two weeks had been like hell. Hell on earth. He was so overwhelmingly exhausted during those first two weeks, he hadn't been sure he would be able to make it out alive. He could remember the nights when the lights would go out, and he would hear the other guys crying from their beds, wanting to go home. He was waiting to feel the same thing himself, but it never came. Instead, the excitement grew by the day. Every day he was learning something new, something important. He was learning things he wouldn't have to regurgitate on any exam. These were life skills, and no one could tell him he had a wrong answer. With his new found confidence, he pushed himself more and more as the days went on. He could tell he was getting faster, stronger, and more and more passionate about life in the army.

But the training was _grueling_. Some guys could barely take it, and Finn was one of the few men who hadn't broken down into tears yet. They crawled in the mud, they carried weights on their backs, they ran at night, they even climbed walls.

And Finn loved every second of it.

During the first three weeks, he realized he'd found his niche in hand-to-hand combat. Weapons training was the most exciting thing he'd ever been through, and he could still remember what it felt like to shoot his first gun. It was like he was shooting a bullet of adrenaline into his heart, and it turned out he had really good aim.

A lifetime of video games had it's merits.

Basic Training lasted for fourteen weeks; the infantry had the longest training time because of the weapons details and the combat training. After the first nine weeks, he was called into a meeting with his commanding officer, so he could choose his AIT.

Entering the small office, he saluted the commanding officer before waiting for his permission to sit.

"Well, Hudson, what do you think about the Infantry?"

"I'm happy here, sir. I would like to continue my combat training."

"You know, you're one of the few men who who can really hold their own on the field. You could be one of the rare Privates to graduate as First Class. I have a good feeling about you. I think we're gonna send you to Fort Stewart, in Georgia. You're going to be a part of the 3rd Infantry Division. One of the most decorated and valorous divisions in the entire Armed Forces. You'll learn to be a real soldier there. For a while you'll train in Fort Irwin, in California, to train in the Mojave desert. That'll help you get acclimated with the heat and such, you know how hot the desert can get." Finn nodded along with the intimidating office, nodding and agreeing with him when he talked about the different regiments. "So it's settled, Private Finn Hudson, we're transferring you to the 3rd Battalion, 69th Armored Regiment. A fine battalion filled with national heroes of all shapes and sizes. I think you'll fit in just fine."

Overwhelmed from the praise he was receiving from the scariest, most intimidating man he'd ever known, all he could do was salute and smile. Boot camp was half over, and now he was going to finish his training with some of the finest soldiers in the Army. He was well on his way to becoming the hero he'd wanted to be. "Thank you, sir."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Five weeks. Five weeks in the desert, training in the overwhelming heat. He didn't know how much more he could take of this hot weather. It was only California, but it felt like the inner layers of hell. If it was this hot here, he didn't want to know how hot it was in Afghanistan. It was stifling in the day, and freezing at night. How did _that_ work?

He took of his helmet and plopped down onto the sand, removing his water bottle from his gear and drinking liberally. He stuck his gun into the sand and took a second to rest. Running a hand over his shaved head, he wiped off the sweat that had accumulated there. Staring out into the vast desert, he thought about Rachel, and how he would be seeing her in less than a week. He couldn't believe it had been over three months since he left home. He felt so different now; he was more confident and determined. He'd changed during his time in boot camp, both mentally and physically; his upper body had really bulked up with the heavy training, and he was definitely more mature, level-headed. He felt smarter, and stronger than when he'd left.

But he missed Rachel like hell. He couldn't wait to see her. He could barely even remember what a woman _looked_ like, the infantry was such a giant sausage party. There had been very few chances to talk with Rachel during boot camp, and even fewer chances here in California. But after this week, he'd be going home. _Home_. To Lima, Ohio.

To Rachel.

He felt some sand kick up next to where he was sitting, and he turned to look at the one guy he was able to befriend during his time in California; Private Manuel Sanchez from Albuquerque, New Mexico. Manuel had a great sense of humor, something Finn valued during the grueling training sessions in the desert.

"Aww, did the white boy forget his sunblock?"

"Shut up, Dirty, I'm not used to this shit." Finn created that nickname for him because of his last name. Finn never passed up the opportunity to call Manuel "Private Dirty Sanchez."

"How are you going to fight in Afghanistan when you can't even handle California?"

"I can deal, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Let me guess, your little Broadway babe, right?" Dirty was one of the few people he'd talked to about important things, like Rachel. Manuel thought the story of how they'd met was hilarious; apparently Finn didn't seem like the glee club type.

"Yeah, I'm going to see her next week." He sighed deeply. "I haven't talked to her in weeks, and I don't know what to expect. What if she met someone else? In New York?"

Manuel scoffed. "Chica would have to be loco to pass up a guy like you! You're the best Private in the group! You are one of only two Privates to graduate as Private First Class this year, and you are like a pro in weapons training. Plus, you're the Music Man! She loves you! You'll see, when you get home, she won't be able to keep her eyes off of you." Dirty had his own nickname for Finn. He called him the "Music Man", not only for his past in the glee club, but because Finn pretty much sang whenever he wasn't on a mission. He said it helped him clear his head.

He shook his head sadly. He missed her so much, he would be devastated if she'd found someone else while he was gone. "I don't know, Dirty."

"Well, then why don't you propose to her or something."

Hearing the word "propose" sent an odd feeling through him that he couldn't place. It was. . ._nice_. "Huh?"

Manuel clapped a hand on his shoulder, and gave his friend a playful shake. "You like her, so put a ring on it!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After fourteen of the longest, most challenging weeks of his life, Finn graduated from Boot Camp as a member of the 3rd Infantry Division. He graduated as a Private First Class with an EIB, an Expert Infantry Badge. He'd had to pass numerous tests on daytime/nighttime land navigation to earn that badge, along with numerous combat and weapons tests. It was quite the honor, something his father hadn't even earned.

He couldn't wait to tell Puck that he was a kick-ass fighting machine, just like he'd once said.

As he boarded the plane to Ohio, all he could think of was Rachel, and seeing her for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. He would still have a couple of days before she returned from school, but he was looking forward to the free time. Finn had _planning_ to do. Dirty Sanchez had given him way too many ideas.

As the plane took off, he sat back in his seat, closed his eyes, and fell into his memories of Lima, Rachel, and his friends and family. He couldn't help but smile.

Private First Class Finn Hudson was on his way home.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Finn is a soldier now! What will happen when Rachel meets PFC Hudson?

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	4. Home For The Holidays

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Yesterday was my 6 year anniversary with my boyfriend! And I just realized that he has adorable birthmarks on his left cheek just like Cory/Finn! Yay for me!

**Hero**

**Chapter Four: Home For The Holidays**

Staring out of her window on the plane, Rachel fidgeted nervously in her seat, trying to calm herself down from the overwhelming anxiety that coursed through her system. All she wanted was the plane to land so she could see Finn, and spend every waking minute with him while they were both home. It had been weeks since they'd even had a simple phone conversation, and she couldn't wait to be reunited with him. The next three weeks had to be perfect, because after that, he'd be gone for over a year. Maybe even two.

Shaking away the irrational nervousness she felt at their reunion, she tried to picture how different he would look. She knew to expect the shaved head, but she still couldn't picture Finn without his full, thick head of hair. Living in the city, she saw soldiers patrolling the subways and major tourist points all the time, but she still couldn't envision Finn in the camouflage uniform and beige boots. She had to see it with her own eyes.

When she heard the seat-belt alert ringing over head, along with the captain's message that they would be arriving shortly, she could feel her pulse begin to race. Four months in the city, alone, had really helped Rachel realize how much she valued Finn in her life. No matter how crazy life got, especially with her grueling school schedule, she always knew that there was one boy in the world who loved her. Even if he was going to be shipped half-way around the world to fight in a war she didn't necessarily believe in.

But she loved Finn, and she would support him no matter what.

When the plane landed, she went to the baggage claim to get her luggage and stood in the waiting area, waiting for her fathers to arrive. She could barely stand still she was so anxious to get home and see Finn. She started to walk towards the exit, thinking that she would get home faster if she could meet her dads by the car. She walked past a tall man in an army uniform, which made her think of Finn, and she started to trot even faster to the exits, wanting desperately to be home. She stopped dead in her tracks when the tall soldier placed a giant hand on her arm.

"Excuse me miss, do I know you from somewhere?" That voice! She would know that voice _anywhere_. . .

She turned around and locked eyes with the tall soldier, almost screaming in disbelief.

It was Finn.

She felt like the biggest fool in the world. She'd walked right past her own boyfriend in the airport, thinking he was a complete stranger! But he looked so _different_ now. His head was shaved right down to the scalp, something that made him look much older than eighteen. Also, his skin was so _tan_, tanner than the summers he would spend helping Puck with his above-ground pool-cleaning business. His various birthmarks blended in with his skin, and didn't stand out as much as they used to. Also, he looked like a giant compared to her. He'd always been tall, and broad, but now it was like she was looking at a pro-football player or a wrestler. His upper body was so bulked up, she couldn't beleive that this specimen of a man in front of her was once her lanky, awkward boyfriend.

And boy, did he look good in a uniform!

"Finn!" She screamed his name and launched herself into his arms, feeling like she was flying when he lifted her off of the floor and twirled her around in the airport waiting area. She could see her dads walking up to the couple, but she didn't want to let go of Finn. He was still holding her about a foot off the ground, but she didn't care. She turned her head around to plant a kiss on his cheek. He let her down and kissed her properly, lingering on her lips and making her feel like she was back in the air, weightless.

"Hey, baby! Surprised you, didn't I?"

"This is more than a surprise, I might need oxygen! I barely even recognized you!"

He frowned slightly. "I was afraid of that. Do I really look that different?"

Nodding enthusiastically, she smiled. "Yeah, but it's a good thing." Taking a few steps back, she soaked in the image of her boyfriend. "A _very_ good thing."

They shared a knowing smile. "I trailed along with your dads so we can get as much time together as possible. The next three weeks are going to be great." She slipped her hand into his, and noticed how rough his hands were. They always used to be soft, and smooth. Now they were tougher. It seemed like everything about Finn was tougher now.

Kissing her dads on the cheek, Finn took her suitcase from her and rolled it out to the car along with the Berry family. He was still just as chivalrous as ever.

"When did you get home?"

"About two days ago. I swear, it's been a non-stop party at my house since I arrived. Kurt is home too, so the house has been filled with people wanting to see us. I think Mercedes even slept in Kurt's bed with him last night!" Mercedes had been accepted to Howard University in DC, while Kurt went to Northwestern. Rachel knew all too well what it was like to be separated from someone who was once inseparable from you.

"Great, I can't wait to see everyone."

"Yeah, it's pretty sweet," She could feel his warm breath on her neck as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "but I've been waiting for you. Now the party can_ really_ start."

Blushing furiously, she really hoped her dads had plans tonight.

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She'd missed her friends, she really had. She never thought she would ever in her life make friends as good as her gleeks from high school, and she was really looking forward to seeing them all and catching up with them.

Just not tonight.

She spent about an hour at the Hudson house, chatting with Finn's mom and seeing Kurt and Mercedes, before she made an excuse to have Finn drive her home. When they reached her house and found a note from her dads saying that they'd gone out for the evening, she barely had a second to soak in the information before she felt Finn picking her up, and throwing her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs, two at a time, while she pounded furiously on his back.

"Finn Hudson, you put me down right this second!"

"That's a negative, Rachel. I'm a soldier on a mission."

"What's the mission, to get in my pants?"

She could almost hear his smile in his tone. "Affirmative."

She rolled her eyes liberally, glad he couldn't see her face. He burst into her room, and she could still see her suitcase by the bed; she hadn't even unpacked yet. He tossed her onto the bed like she was a toy, and her butt bounced on the fluffy comforter.

"Hey! Watch it you giant brute! I'm a lady." She looked up at him from the bed and he'd already removed his boots and shirt, revealing a white wife beater and a chain of dog tags resting on his chest. Her mouth fell open in shock when her eyes trailed down his arms and chest.

When Puck saw Finn's guns, he was going to get _hella_ jealous.

She watched as his gaze turned predatory, and he inched closer to the bed while unbuttoning his pants. Delicious tingles of anticipation set her body ablaze as he reached forward and took her into his arms, reaching for her clothes, trying to remove all the boundaries between them.

"You're damn right you're a lady." He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, stealing her breath away from her. "You have no idea how much I need you right now." His voice was deep and husky with lust, and she could feel all of her control slipping away. She knew exactly how he felt, the four months had taken it's toll on her, as well.

"I know, I missed you too."

He smiled as he shook his head as he reached for her sweater, pulling it off to reveal her lacy bra. "No, Rachel. You have _no_ idea. Four months of living with stinky, ugly, dirty men. It was terrible. I almost forgot what a girl looked like. Even the women started to look like men after a while." He kissed the skin on her neck, trailing kisses down her shoulders. "But you, are so perfectly pretty. So girly. So _awesome_." He reached behind her to unclasp her bra, removing the garment and resting his shaved head on her sensitive chest. Closing his eyes, she let him rest there, letting him listen to her heart beat. Her heart that beat only for him. She cradled his head in her hands and she rubbed his head affectionately, finding herself oddly aroused by the feeling the buzz cut on her fingertips. She missed his hair, but the cut kind of suited him. She felt his arms wrap around her body tightly, and he began to kiss her naked skin hungrily, the need overtaking him.

"I'm right here, Finn. I'm all yours."

And with that, the soldier pounced on his target, swallowing her sighs in a kiss and burying himself in her love.

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THUD.

"Fuck!" Puck swore liberally as Finn won the fifth round of arm wrestling in a row. Puck's face was bright red from the effort, and his face was pinched into a frown. "One more round."

"No way man, that's what you said the last four times." Finn was looking smug as Rachel flashed him a beaming smile from across the room. She was watching, amused, as Finn and Puck faced off in their wife-beaters and dress slacks, man-to-man. She knew that Puck would be jealous of Finn's post-boot camp body, and the two had been duking it out all throughout her holiday party. First was the modeling of their guns, which was why they were in their wife beaters at such a formal event. The group had deemed Finn the slight winner, but then Puck challenged him to an arm-wrestling match to test his strength.

Finn was still winning.

"Come on! I refuse to be beaten by Andre the Giant. I used to pwn you all the time in arm wrestling."

"That was before I was bench pressing 200."

"How many one-armed push-ups can you do?"

"More than you can."

"Try me, Hudson."

With a wicked smirk, Finn dropped onto the floor with one arm behind his back and proceeded to do one armed push-ups like he was weightless. Not to be outdone, Puck dropped and did them at double-speed, trying to catch up with Finn. The whole group circled around the masculine show of strength while they laughed at Puck's attempts to catch up to Finn. After a few minutes, it seemed to be a tie.

"See, I can still dominate you, Army or no Army."

"No way. Rachel, Quinn, come here." She made eye contact with Quinn as one of the blond's delicate eyebrows raised in confusion. Rachel walked over to Finn as Quinn stood next to Puck.

"Stand on my back, baby. Quinn, stand on Puck's. Let's see how many he can do with the extra weight." The crowd ooh'd and ahh'd as the two girls stood on the back's of their boyfriends. Puck looked intimidated when Quinn stepped onto his back, and hesitated when Finn commenced his push-ups with Rachel on his back.

Puck couldn't even get off of the ground once.

Finn laughed triumphantly as Rachel tried to balance on his back, hopping off and laughing along with him as Puck collapsed face-first onto the floor, burying his head in the carpet. Quinn tried to get him off of the floor, and he swatted her hands away.

"Just leave me here. I'm too pathetic to live." Finn laughed at his friend and helped him off of the floor, putting him in a headlock and rubbing his mohawk affectionately. Rachel watched Finn horse around with Puck some more as she walked around her living room, making sure the room was still stocked with snacks and punch for her guests. It was starting to get late, and she went over to Finn to let him know that they should start opening presents soon.

"Of course, Rachel. Gather everyone by the tree. Let's do it."

One by one, the group of friends all passed out presents to one another, exchanging hugs and kisses. She walked over to Finn who was sitting on her father's favorite armchair, and hopped onto his lap, handing him over a small box.

"Merry Christmas, Finn." His glowing smile filled her with joy as he opened up the small box. She'd wanted to get him something small, something he could keep with him while he was away so he would always remember her and their memories together.

She watched anxiously as he opened the small white box and pulled out a silver pin. It was a bass clef, because he was a baritenor, and she knew that the men in his unit had called him "Music Man" while he was away. She waited nervously for his reaction as a soft smile graced his features.

"Aw, Rachel, I love it. It's perfect. I'll keep it with me all the time on my unform."

"It's so you never forget the music in your heart. The music that brought us together." He planted a soft kiss on her lips, then moved her off of his lap so he could stand up. He sat her down on the armchair, and reached into his own pocket for her gift. She could feel butterflies fluttering away in her stomach while she waited for her present. She loved presents. "What did you get me?" She said teasingly as he smiled softly. She felt her hear stop beating in her chest when he dropped onto one knee in front of her, pulling out a dark velvet box.

She noticed all eyes on her and Finn, and everyone in the room had frozen still, some of them still unwrapping their own presents.

"Rachel, I have loved you for so long. And I know I'm going away, and that really sucks, but I want you to know that while I'm gone you'll always be in my heart. And when I come home, I want us to be together for good." He opened up the box to reveal a simple silver band, no stones or diamonds, just a classy, elegant band engraved with the words "Finn and Rachel." Feeling the emotion choke up in her throat, she looked at Finn with wide, watery eyes. "I couldn't afford anything flashy, and I kind of borrowed most of the money from Burt to pay for the ring, but it's engraved with our names, as a promise that we'll always be together." She thought she was going to need a paper bag, she felt like she was going to hyperventilate. "Rachel Barbara Berry, will you marry me?"

She could hear the soft gasps of her friends in the room, staring at her and waiting for her response. But she couldn't break eye contact with Finn, who was looking at her with such anticipation, such anxiety, she could barely remember the question he'd asked her. When she looked back down at the simple, gorgeous ring, and stared into his deep, soulful, eyes she knew in her heart the answer.

"Yes, Finn. When you come home, I'll marry you."

He slipped the ring onto her finger delicately, holding onto her hand as she finally looked around the room at her friends and family. Her fathers were hugging Carole and crying into her arms while Burt watched on in semi-horror, all her girlfriends were wiping tears away from their eyes, and the guys all looked on with various looks of respect and shock. Puck was the only one who looked terrified at the prospect of marriage.

Finn rubbed the ring on her hand with his thumb as he leaned forward to plant the most breathtaking kiss on her willing lips. Smiling brighter than the sun, she looked down at her engagement ring, and looked at the loopy inscription with pride and love.

Now all she had to do was wait for him to come home.

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It was cold and snowing, the night before Finn left for his tour in Afghanistan. She had spent every waking moment of the past few weeks with her fiancé, trying to ignore the inevitable, savoring the time they'd had together. But time moved faster than she'd wanted it to, and tonight she had to say goodbye. After a pleasant dinner with him and her dads, they sat in her room, chatting lightly and trying not to think about his impending departure. When it started to get late, she walked with him to his car, standing outside in the snow while they said their goodbyes. He had to be out very early in the morning, so this was her final chance to tell him how much she loved him.

"So, 20 months huh?" She tried to be nonchalant, like a year and eight months was no big deal.

"Yup. It's a nice, even number."

"I'll be a Junior in college by the time you get back."

"We will talk every week. I'll pick a day and we'll stick with it. You set up your webcam, right?"

She saluted him. "Yes, sir."

"That's my girl." Reaching over, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. She wished the kiss would never end. She could feel the emotion bubbling up and she tried desperately to squash it. A small sob escaped her mouth and Finn smiled sadly.

"I thought we promised no tears, we cried enough last time."

She rubbed the tears from her eyes, trying to hide them from him. "I know! No tears!"

"I'll be home sooner than you think. It'll all go by like that!" He snapped his fingers and she had to smile at his optimism. But he would be gone five times longer than the last time, and she could barely wrap her head around 20 months of living without Finn.

"And then we'll get married?"

"Then we'll get married, I promise."

Pouting like a child, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you forget it."

"Never." Opening the door to his car, she kissed him a final time before he pulled out of her driveway. He rolled down the windows and screamed at her while he was driving away.

"I love you, Rachel Berry!"

Not caring if the neighbors heard her, she screamed right back, "I love you, Finn Hudson!"

She stood out in the snow and waited until his car turned the corner to go back into her house. It was only after she closed her bedroom door and collapsed on her bed when she finally let her tears fall, crying for her fiancé and the obstacles he would have to face before he could return home to marry her.

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Salut mes amis!

What a fluffy cute chappy! I hope you enjoyed it, because it all goes downhill from here. Get ready for the angst!

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	5. The Battle of Marsli

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Get ready for the action people!  
**  
****Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Five: The Battle of Marsli**  
_  
__One Year, Seven Months, and Eighteen Days Later _

"Hey Baby!" Finn smiled as a small, pixilated version of Rachel waved enthusiastically at him from his computer screen. He could barely make out the details of her face, but he knew it was her. He would know her voice anywhere.

"Hi Honey, how are you?" He looked forward to his weekly chats with Rachel, it helped him decompress from the pressure of the job. He frowned when the audio got jumbled, and he fiddled with the speakers on the video chat station in the base. "Can you hear me?"

"Barely, but I see you. Don't get frustrated babe; today is the last time we have to deal with this stupid equipment and then you'll be home. We won't need the web-cams anymore." A pleasant feeling rushed through him when he thought about the end of his service. It had been over a year and a half since he was shipped out to Afghanistan, and all he had to do was wait out the last twelve days.

"I know, but it sucks not seeing your beautiful face." He could hear her laughter coming from the tiny speakers as he thought about returning home. He could barely believe his service was almost over, and he got chills thinking about being reunited with Rachel, his fiancée.

They had a wedding to start planning.

"But I still won't get to see you when you get back, I have to be in New York three days before you get home so I can start classes again. I'm thinking of skipping them altogether so I can see you."

He placed a hand over his mouth in mock offense. "Who are you and what have you done to my fiancée? Rachel Berry skipping classes? It's unheard of!" Her giggles filled the tiny room and he laughed along with her. When they spoke like this, it was so easy to forget that he was thousands of miles away from her, trying to support an area that was crawling in terrorists and extremists. When he spoke to her, it was like there wasn't even a war at all. "Well, you know, I have a layover in JFK. And I can always reschedule my flight back to Ohio. . ."

He saw the little image of Rachel hop up and down in her chair, clapping wildly. "Really?"

"Of course, really! Rachel, we've been apart for almost 20 months. Mom can wait the extra weekend for me to get home." He waited for her to stop bouncing around, and smiled at her enthusiasm.

"So, next week we won't be able to talk, right?"

"Yup, I'll be on my way home already, this is our last video chat. Next time we talk it will be face-to-face."

"I can't wait!"

"Me neither." He felt two large hands clap down on his shoulders, and when he turned around to see who had interrupted his conversation, the head of PFC Manuel "Dirty" Sanchez was resting on his shoulder, grinning like a fool.

"Well helloooo, Berrylicious!" Finn slapped his head away from his shoulder as Rachel giggled at the name Dirty called her.

"Go away, Dirty, I'm trying to have a peaceful conversation with my fiancée."

"Aww, come on, she loves me! Don't you Berrylicious?" He wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively as Finn frowned deeply.

"Of course, _Manuel_. You've always taken good care of Finn."

"See, Music Man, what did I tell ya?"

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease away the tension he felt at Dirty's intrusion. "Go away, Dirty!"

"Nah, man, I wish I could. But the Platoon Sergeant told me to fetch ya, we have to get debriefed for the mission." Rachel's sharp gasp filled the background and he glared daggers at Dirty. Finn slapped him on the back of the head; he didn't like when Rachel knew he had missions. It made her worry too much.

"Mission? What's going on, Finn?" Breaking eye contact with Dirty, who was rubbing the back of his head with a frown, he turned to the little picture of Rachel on the screen and tried to sound nonchalant.

"It's nothing, Rach. I promise. Just some perimeter checks around the village, nothing major."

"Are you sure? Be careful!" The worry in her tone pierced his heart. He never wanted her to know how dangerous things were here.

"Rachel, you are talking to Specialist Finn Hudson. Team Leader of the Alpha Company, 2nd Platoon Attack Squad. Careful is my middle name."

"No, your middle name is Conrad." He elbowed Dirty in the sides when he heard him giggling at his middle name.

"That's not the point, Rach. I'm always careful. And this is one of my last missions ever, I'll be home so soon I've already started packing."

He could see her tiny, blurry smile grace her features as she nodded. "Twelve days."

Nodding, he agreed with her. "Twelve days." He felt Dirty nudge him again and he knew he had to get to the debriefing. "I'll see you soon."

"I love you." After almost three years of dating, and all the time apart from her, he still got chills when he heard her say the words.

"I love you, too. See you soon." He clicked off the program and Rachel's image disappeared from the screen. He grabbed his helmet and gun and followed Dirty to his Platoon Sergeant so he could receive his orders.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"We have spent the past eighteen months here, on the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan, trying to secure the area from the extremist and high value target known as Mouad Mohammed al-Charef." Finn sat solemnly, soaking in all the information dictated by the Platoon Sergeant. "He is our Jack of Hearts; wanted for supplying Al-Qaeda with weapons both chemical and automatic. His followers have been terrorizing this area for the better part of a year, and no matter what we've tried, he has eluded us at every turn." The sergeant stood in front of a detailed terrain map of the area surrounding the base and the region they protected. "But we have received intelligence that he is staying inside the central village of Marsli, and if we can set up a perimeter around the village, we can trap him and his group inside the town."

Finn felt his stomach drop into his knees. He'd been stationed in the same camp for his entire service. He knew the villages, the townspeople, and the dynamic of life here. Marsli was a very important village in this community, and if something happened to it, the surrounding villages would suffer too. They had to secure that perimeter and capture al-Charef without doing serious damage to the town.

Mouad Mohammed al-Charef was one of the most dangerous extremists he'd ever come across in his almost 20 months of service. He'd never hesitated to destroy property or sacrifice human life in order to get his point across. His one goal was to get into the US, so he could bring his extremism to the states and wreak havoc on the peace of the American people. He must be here for a weapons deal of some sort. For him to be here, in this cluster of villages, was practically suicide for him.

"SPC Hudson, you and your team will be the first to enter the village. I want a complete perimeter check before the village is secured. If we do this right, we can catch al-Charef today. Son of a bitch has been hiding from us for over a year, he can't escape us forever. Once the village is secured, we can ambush the extremists inside their base, and see what kinds of weapons are in their caches."

Finn gathered his team for the mission, and Dirty joined his side as his number one man. The team of seven soldiers geared up and took two HMMWV's to the central village of Marsli, where Finn proceeded to split them up.

"Dirty and I will patrol the town center to see if there are any problems. The rest of you can start setting up the perimeter around the town. Keep your eyes out for anything suspicious, and radio me if you see something. Meet me in the town center when the perimeter is secure." Dirty trailed him as they entered the village, waving to the townspeople who knew them by name. Well, by nickname.

"_Music Man_!" He smiled at the villagers, whose thick accents made the nickname almost incomprehensible as little children danced around his feet. Not all the time he spent in Afghanistan was spent fighting. In fact, most of the time he was here in the villages, giving out humanitarian aid, reaching out to the villagers, trying to gain their trust. He knew most of the villagers by sight alone, even though his Pashto was horrid. His favorite past-time was spending time with the village children. He played soccer with them, and sang songs. He thought it was funny that the majority of songs they liked were all songs he sang in glee club.

"Don't Stop Believing!" The little children yelled in their thick accents, and Finn smiled at them sadly.

"Not today kids, we're on a mission." He knew the little kids couldn't speak English, but their matching frowns informed him that they understood the message. They chose to ignore it.

"_Small town girl. . .lonely world!_" They started to sing the words in their thick accents, mispronouncing them and following him through the town. Dirty shot him an amused look, and he figured he should indulge the kids while he had a minute. He looked down at his lapel, and smiled at the shining bass clef pin that he kept on him at all times. Rachel would be so proud if she knew how much singing he'd done in the Army.

"Go on ahead, Dirty, I'll meet up with you guys in the town center. Let me give these kids what they want, it'll only take a minute." Dirty nodded and continued the patrol while Finn sat down on a small ledge and started to sing for the kids.

"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. He took the midnight train going anywhere. . . " The kids all clapped and danced around with each other, laughing and giggling at the foreign music. He sang the next few lines, and was about to go into the bridge, when a loud noise brought him back to the reality of his mission.

BOOM

Looking up into the sky, he saw a large black cloud of smoke rising from the direction of the town square. The place where he and his team were supposed to meet. The place where he'd just sent Dirty.

"Run! Hide!" He yelled at the children and ran off in the direction of the smoke and dust. A large cloud of sand and ash obscured his view as he lifted up his gun for protection. He could hear the screams of the townspeople as they ran past him, some of them bleeding, most of them terrified. He entered the town center and felt like he'd been kicked in the gut; the once vibrant, unique village was now covered in a thick layer of sand and dust that hid the true damage to the city. He saw the flaming skeleton of a vehicle, parked on the side of the narrow road. Someone had exploded a car bomb here. Blood stained the sand where he stepped, and he could see the bodies of the villagers who had been standing too close to the camouflaged bomb, littering the streets.

Another deafening boom filled the air as he witnessed another car bomb go off in the middle of the still crowded town center. Shrapnel flew everywhere, wounding some, cutting through others like a hot knife through butter. More innocent villagers fell as he witnessed the chaos around him. Shielding his eyes, he could see the members of his team taking cover, as the town center cleared itself of all innocent bystanders. Trying to protect himself from the still-flying shrapnel, he hid in a sunken alcove of a dilapidated building, finding refuge in the slight cover. He reached for his radio, and called the base, reporting the two car bombs and the damage to the village.

When the smoke cleared, a young man stepped forward into the town square, a black remote in his hand. Finn looked out from his hidden spot to soak in the image in front of him. He'd studied every document available on the extremists in the area, trying to memorize their features so he could pick one apart from the other. And he was as sure as the sky was blue that the person in front of him, the psychopath who had killed all those innocent villagers, was Mouad Mohammed al-Charef.

He looked way too young to be the cause of so much death, but he stood in the town center, assessing the damage he'd done. Surrounding him were bodyguards, armed with Military grade M16 rifles. Finn couldn't get a good shot on him, and neither could any of his teammates. Turning his body to the left, he made eye contact with Dirty, who was hiding behind the collapsed wreckage of an apartment balcony. He didn't have a good shot either. He looked to the right of the small alcove and almost had a heart attack.

One of the boys from the village was collapsed on the ground with a leg wound, not 10 feet away from where he was hiding. He had told the boy to run! Had he followed him, not understanding English? All he knew was that he had to get that little boy out of there, or else he was going to get shot or trampled.

Finn stared at al-Charef while he whispered something in Pashto to one of his bodyguards. Inching out of his hiding space, he crawled in the bloody sand to reach the poor, injured boy. He grabbed onto his hand and pulled him into the safety of the alcove, tucking him in the back so he would have the most cover. He took off his helmet and put it on the boy's head, hoping to protect him from any other debris or danger. It was the least he could do. He turned back to the scene before him, and heard someone yelling in broken English.

"You Americans think you're so smart!" The bodyguard aimed his rifle towards the sky and started to fire, filling the center with the sound of gunshots and flying debris. "You thought you could surround us, when it is we who are surrounding you!" The group of extremists all laughed while Finn's team stayed hidden away. "Our leader, al-Charef, would like to know if all Americans are as stupid as you, because he will be visiting there very soon and he needs to know." Finn froze at the implication. If Mouad Mohammed al-Charef made it into the US, no one would be safe. His eyes shrunk into little slits of fury as the group of extremists laughed together maniacally. He aimed his gun again, hoping he could get just one shot. . .

Pulling the trigger, he rejoiced when the bullet came in contact with the shoulder of Mouad Mohammed al-Charef. With a harsh, ragged cry, the bodyguards immediately started to fire, in every direction, and Finn could see his other men struggling to stay covered. He spared one more look at al-Charef, just in time to see him reach for the remote in his hands.

He was going to detonate another bomb.

"Take cover!" He screamed as he saw al-Charef press down on the detonator. The sound of explosions filled the air as his vision was enveloped in fire and sand. He took the small boy into his arms, cradling him away from the smoke and ash. "Dirty!" He called to his friend, his number one man, and heard no response. Panic spread through his body when he called for the other men in his team and no one answered. Another explosion filled his senses as he turned around and ran into the dilapidated building that served as his cover, holding the boy tightly to his chest.

One more bomb went off, right where he'd been hiding, and he watched in horror as the building started to collapse right on top of him. The exit to the town square was completely blocked off, so he ran through the crumbling building to see if there was another exit on the other side.

A window was all he saw on the far wall of the building, and he carefully placed the child out of the window, where the boy was able to support himself on one leg. The boy reached for Finn's hand as the building fell apart around him. He tried to pull himself out of the window, but it was too small.

He was trapped.

Smoke started to fill the room as he heard the ceiling groan and creak under the strain. This whole building was about to fall on top of him and there was no escape.

"Run!" He screamed at the little boy who looked too terrified to move. He shook his head, reaching out for Finn's hand, jumping up and down screaming "Music Man!" The ceiling started to break down around him and he yelled at the boy to get away once more. "GO!" The boy shot him one last, desperate look of gratitude as he tried his best to run away with his injured leg. Finn sighed in relief. At least the boy would be safe.

Before the boy had even left his sight, a large piece of concrete from the building fell from the ceiling and smashed him on his unprotected head. The boy had never returned his helmet, and Finn fell face first onto the debris-littered floor. Excruciating pain spread through him as he lied helpless on the floor, unable to move. A huge crack exploded over head, and he felt the building collapse completely on top of him, trapping him under the immense weight.

The last thing he thought about, before blacking out, was Rachel, and how he hoped that she knew he'd died a hero.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

The glory of war isn't so glorious. Don't worry, FINN IS NOT DEAD!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	6. Planning

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: I love how even after writing "FINN WILL NOT DIE" THREE different times on three different chapters, I still got an overwhelming amount of comments that said "Please don't kill Finn!" HE IS NOT DEAD.  
**  
****Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Six: Planning**

"Hi Rachel, it's Carole!" Rachel smiled as she listened to the voice-mail message from her future Mother-in-law, Carole Hudson. She was just getting out of her Women in Theater seminar, and she listened to the message as she made her way through the crowded New York City streets. "I wanted to run by some ideas with you tonight about the wedding! I didn't want Finn to come home and be all overwhelmed with the planning, so I took it upon myself to collect swatches of fabric for the color schemes, and I got the numbers of the best caterers in town." Shaking her head as she maneuvered through the busy streets, she smiled as Carole continued to babble on the message. "So, please call me back when you get this! We have so much to talk about. Take care, dear!" Placing the cell phone in her messenger bag, she walked out of the Lafayette Street subway station and made her way into her tiny apartment building a few blocks away. It wasn't the nicest, or largest, apartment ever, but it would be perfect for her and Finn to share when he came home.

Twisting her keys in the lock, she let herself into the small space and plopped down on her sofa, relaxing from the stress of the day. As a junior, she no longer qualified for living arrangements at Juilliard, so she moved into this tiny apartment in the village. Her dads paid for her first semester's rent, and when Finn came home she and him would take over the responsibility for paying the bills. She'd already found an easy job, as a waitress at a restaurant not too far from her building, and had already started saving up money.

Lying back on the sofa, she thought of nothing but Finn and the fact that he would be arriving home any day now. It had been such an excruciatingly long time, but she would wait forever if she had to. Finn was her everything. Looking down at her left hand, she smiled at the elegant engagement ring that adorned her ring finger. The words "Finn and Rachel" stood out and shimmered in the dim lighting of her apartment. Their wedding was so close she could taste it.

She had it all planned out. He would come home next week, and spend the first few months applying to schools and spending time with his family and friends in Ohio. Then, by the holidays, he would move to the city to live with her, and start going to school. By the time she had her BA in Theater Arts, he could already have an Associates Degree! Then they could get married in Ohio with their families and move to New York for good. All before the age of 23!

It was the perfect plan.

She stretched out languidly on her couch, feeling uncharacteristically lazy, and started to doze off on her comfortable sofa. The ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her nap about two hours later. She reached for her bag and saw the call was from Carole. She cursed softly under her breath, she'd forgotten to call her back! She picked up the phone and tried to apologize groggily.

"Carole, I am so sorry, I was just about to call you and I dozed off for a minute. . . " She was waiting to hear Carole's bright retort when a man spoke on the other end.

"Rachel, dear, it's not Carole. It's Burt Hummel."

She sat up straight on her couch, the fatigue completely gone from her mind. What was Burt doing calling her? Was Carole okay?

"Mr. Hummel? Is Carole okay?" She bit her lip in anticipation as she heard Burt sighing deeply on the other end.

"I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but Carole can't speak right now, so here it goes." The blood started to pound in her veins. There was something about his tone that she did not like. It made her hackles rise and her hair stand on end.

"Finn is missing."

It took her a good minute for the meaning of his statement to penetrate her racing mind. She sat on her couch in total shock as her breathing became shallow and rushed. "Missing?" She spit out the word like it had offended her.

"Yes, Rachel, he's M.I.A." His voice was so calm, so controlled. She felt pure panic seep throughout her body as she clutched her cell phone in her hands. She could hear the sound of crying in the background. That explained why Carole wasn't the one on the phone.

"I-I don't understand. He can't be missing, I talked to him a week ago!" She could hear her voice breaking, but she couldn't control it. "He's coming home in a few days, Mr. Hummel! He can't be missing."

Burt's voice was calm and steady as he explained the details that were given to him by the Army. "They said that Finn's team went on a mission, to secure the perimeter of a small village, and his team was ambushed."

"Ambushed?" She was in such shock she could do nothing but repeat the words that were doing the most damage to her self-control.

"They said that all the members of his team were found dead in the city square."

"His entire team?" The tears started to pool in her eyes as she lost all control of her emotions. "Even Dirty?" Finn's best friend, his number one man. . .

"Yes, Rachel, Manuel was killed."

A harsh sob escaped her mouth, and she quickly covered it with her hand to stifle the noise. Her heart couldn't take much more of this. She ran her hand down the side of her face in disbelief. "But you said Finn was missing?"

"That's just it, Rachel. No one can find him. All the members of the team were found and accounted for except for Finn. The town was pretty much destroyed, and even after the clean-up, they still couldn't find him."

Sitting in her living room, feeling like the world was falling around her, Rachel tried desperately to take deep breaths and not fall into a panic attack of epic proportions. Her heart was racing, and the adrenaline in her system was making her hands shake uncontrollably.

"So he's alive?"

"No one knows, Rachel. Right now he is considered Missing in Action. The Army is trying to get in contact with the Afghani government to see if he was maybe captured by enemy groups, which would make him a Prisoner of War." She could hear the sobs increase in both volume and intensity on the other end of her phone call, and she could only picture Carole in her living room, sobbing for her missing son. The tears started to fall freely, and she knew she was minutes away from a full-scale melt-down.

"Will you call me if you hear anything?" She asked through her tears. She was surprised she was even coherent at the moment.

"Of course, Rachel. And if you need anything, please call us."

"Thank You, Mr. Hummel." Was the last thing she was able to choke out before the cell phone fell out of her hands. It hit her couch with a soft thud as she curled into the fetal position, letting the pain in her heart consume her whole.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**TWO WEEKS LATER****  
**  
*KNOCK KNOCK*

She groaned from her bed, loudly, as she pulled the covers over her head to block out the noise coming from her hallway. Her stupid neighbors always made the most noise when she was trying to escape from reality and fall into the blissful oblivion of sleep. It was the only thing that comforted her these days. In her dreams, Finn was always there.

When the knocking returned, much louder this time, she realized that it was coming from her own front door. She shot up in bed. She'd never had visitors here before. Not only did she not have many friends in New York, but barely anyone even knew her address. Who could it be?

Part of her wanted to ignore them altogether. Whoever it was definitely wasn't the one person she wanted to see more than anything. Her missing fiancée. It had been two whole weeks since he'd been reported missing and no one had heard a thing about him. She called Ohio everyday, begging Burt and Carole for more information, but there was nothing to be done. The United States government had reached out to the Afghani government, and no group was accepting responsibility for his capture. No one could be sure if he was even captured at all. For all she knew he was either dead, a POW, or wandering the Afghani desert all alone. No one could find him.

The knocking continued and she got out of bed anyway, pulling a sweater over her pajamas as she walked to her apartment door. She walked up to the eye hole and peeked out to see who it was. Not believing what she was seeing, she opened the door with wide eyes and stared at the people who were standing in her hallway.

It was Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray.

To say she was surprised would have been an understatement of massive proportions. "What the _hell_ are you two doing here?"

One of Quinn's delicate eyebrows raised in shock as she shared an amused look with Puck. "Since when did you start cursing?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, the last thing she wanted to do was pretend to be nice when she wanted to tear something apart. "Since the love of my life went missing in war, stretch marks."

Quinn pretended to not be offended by the insult as she pushed past Rachel and into the small apartment. Puck rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as he stood in the doorway, awkwardly. "Look, that's the reason why we're here. I made a promise. . ."

"Oh no! Don't you start that shit with me, Noah Puckerman!" She pulled him into the apartment so her neighbors couldn't hear their argument. She could feel the little bit of control that she had left start to slip away, as the two people she probably disliked most in the world were standing in her apartment like she was some charity case. "I know all about your promise with Finn, and you can forget it. I don't need your help."

"I told you she would act this way." Quinn made herself more than comfortable on Rachel's couch and was already flipping through the channels on her TV. Rachel turned to her and glared daggers at her one-time rival for Finn's affections.

"And why are you here? Weren't you going to school in Columbus?" Her blood boiled as Quinn shrugged.

"I got my Associates in Photography. I'm going to apply to Pratt while I do freelance work here."

"You two are not moving to New York. I forbid it!"

"God, Berry, complex much? You can't just forbid someone to live in New York. This is where all the construction work is at, I can make a fortune here!" Puck smirked from the kitchen as he helped himself in her fridge. She wanted to punch something. How did these two people end up invading her personal space?

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, taking deep, calming breaths. When she opened her eyes, her two guests were staring at her like she'd lost her sanity.

She was pretty sure she'd lost it two weeks ago.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed. "Listen, guys. I know that you think you're doing Finn a favor, but. . . "

"Shut up, Berry." Picking up her head, she looked at Puck with murder in her eyes for his curt interruption. First he barges into her apartment, eats her food, and then treats her like a child who needs care-taking?

"Excuse me?"

"_Favor_." It looked like the word had left a bad taste in his mouth. "Favor my ass, Berry. I made Finn a _promise_. I told him that I would look after you if he didn't come home. And guess what? _He didn't come home_."

Hearing the words come from Noah's mouth was like hearing the news for the first time all over again. She collapsed onto the arm of the couch, balancing her butt on the cushion while Quinn turned her head from Puck to Rachel.

"I know you must be upset. Pissed off. Hell, I am too, and it's not like I was the one who was gonna marry the fucker. But I'll be damned if I didn't keep a promise to the one guy who was decent enough to put up with a shitty friend like me for all these years. Quinn and I are staying in New York. Deal with it."

She looked from Quinn to Noah and back, all the while shaking her head, not wanting to accept the inevitability. She'd been a witness to the promise; she knew that he was telling the truth. Which meant that she also knew that he was doing the honorable thing.

Deflating visibly, she sighed as she accepted the facts. Quinn and Puck were moving to New York City to make sure she didn't fall off the deep end. She started to nod her head slowly, as she tried to choke back tears.

"So where are you gonna stay?"

"Well we were gonna crash here until we could get an apartment. Quinn can crash with you and I'll take the couch."

Sniffling lightly, she made no effort to fight him. Having her and Quinn share the same bed was the last thing she'd ever thought she'd do today.

"Come on, Stubbles. Let's get to bed." Normally that name offended her like crazy, but the way Quinn said it was almost like a term of affection. She felt oddly comforted. Quinn kissed Puck on the cheek before leading Rachel into her bedroom. The two girls got ready for bed in silence, and it wasn't until they were both tucked in with the lights turned off when Rachel turned to Quinn to ask her a question.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked genuinely. Quinn had never been Rachel's fan, and she could find no real reason behind Quinn's empathy.

She heard the girl sigh softly. "I know exactly what it feels like to lose Finn Hudson." Rachel scoffed in the dark, and Quinn's next sentence was rushed. "I'm not pretending that my past pain even comes close to what you're feeling now, but I get it. I do. He's a lot to lose." Rachel nodded her head into her pillows, understanding what Quinn meant. She started to sniffle lightly, trying not to fall too deep into her despair. "Do you think he's dead, Rachel?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Whenever I question whether or not he's alive, I always close my eyes and listen to what my heart is telling me."

"And what does it say?"

Nodding to herself in the dark, she knew that what she was feeling was the truth. It had to be. She and Finn had a deeper connection than anyone she knew on the planet, and she trusted her instincts, especially when it came to Finn. Tears started to fall down her face as the emotion entered her tone. "He's alive, Quinn."

"Good. Then stop crying, you're making me uncomfortable."

Rachel had to smile. That was the Quinn she knew and. . .kind of liked. She turned around to make herself comfortable and started to doze off. "Good Night, Bitch."

"Good Night, Loser."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

WHAT HAPPENED TO FINN? You'll find out NEXT CHAPTER!

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	7. A New Mission

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Sorry about the delay; my wrist is all kinds of messed up and it hurts to type. I got myself a brace, though, so let's see how it works.

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Seven: A New Mission**

He couldn't pinpoint the second he'd regained consciousness. Who can, really? When you've been unaware of the world around you for so long, how do you recognize the moment you re-enter the conscious world? How do you realize you're no longer in the hazy in-between of sleep and dreams?

His eyelids were too heavy to open as his senses became sharper. He could hear people, voices, talking around him, in a language he couldn't recognize. He suddenly became aware of a sort of numbing pain in his head, a dull throbbing ache that left him feeling disoriented and detached. His eyes were still closed as he tried to focus on the voices he was hearing. They seemed to have stopped.

Once more he tried to open his eyes, and quickly closed them after being met with the brightest light he'd ever seen, blaring right down onto his face. Groaning loudly, he tried again, and successfully opened his eyes against the straining light. It was just simple daylight. Looking up at a tented ceiling, he knew he wasn't in a building, but a camp.

But where _was_ he?

Closing his eyes again, he tried desperately to remember where he was. He tried to remember how he got here. He tried to remember what had happened to him. He scanned through his memories to find the information he so desperately needed.

Panic seeped through his bones when he realized he couldn't remember a thing.

His mind was completely blank. Empty.

Well, it wasn't _empty_. He knew that grass was green and that two plus two equaled four. He knew that Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492. He knew that baseball had nine innings and the words to the Star-Spangled banner.

But he couldn't remember a thing about his life.

He couldn't even remember his name.

He shot up in bed, screaming in agony when he realized he was hooked up to various medical machines and some of his limbs were wrapped up in gauze. It felt like every single one of his muscles was screaming at him to lay back down, but he sat up anyway, breathing heavily and looking around the tiny tent, hoping to find something to remind him of his surroundings. He was alone in the tiny tent, which couldn't be more than nine feet across. He could see the harsh sunlight filtering in through the thin gap in the tent. Across from him was a box filled with medical supplies and the words "Médecins Sans Frontières" written across the front.

Where the hell _was_ he?

Placing his hands on the sides of his head, he tried desperately to remember the events that brought him to this foreign place. He was an American, he knew that much. And he knew he was a soldier, because he could see a torn up uniform on the side of his bed. An odd sensation spread through him, and he could feel it in his bones; he was definitely a soldier. The Army training was still there in his memory. At least he could remember _something_ about his life. He looked down and saw dog tags hanging from his neck. He pulled them up to his face so he could see the tiny writing. As clear as day he could see the name imprinted in the metal.

F. Hudson.

Well, that answered one question. His name was F. Hudson. What the F stood for, he didn't know, but Hudson was just as good a name as any, and it was something he could work with.

He tried to get out of bed, but the various wires stopped him from moving. Removing the thin sheet from his body, he looked down and realized he was covered in scars of various shapes and sizes. Some of them were tiny, others were huge. There was a particularly nasty one going down the side of his left leg, and his arm was wrapped up in gauze up to the shoulder.

What the hell had happened to him that had wiped his memory clean and turned his body into a battlefield of scars? And how did he get here, wherever here was?

His senses went on full alert when he heard the flaps of the tent opening, and watched anxiously as the small tent was filled with doctors and nurses. They were all chatting with each other in a language he couldn't recognize, and staring at him quizzically. He felt uncomfortable under their gazes, and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Can someone tell me what the hell happened to me?" He didn't mean to sound so hysterical, but he was so confused he was starting to get overwhelmed. The doctors all stared at him with various looks of shock and continued chattering on in their language, shooting him various looks of appraisal. He could feel the anxiety start to overwhelm him. If he didn't get any answers soon. . .

A young doctor stepped forward, finally, and stood next to his bed, checking the machines and his vitals. When he opened his mouth to speak, the accent was a strange mix of languages he couldn't place. But the man was speaking English, which was more than he could have hoped for.

"Hello, Sir. My name is Dr. Eddine des Boiis, with Médecins Sans Frontières, or Doctors Without Borders. We are here with the French government. You are lucky I spent that semester abroad in Britain, not many people around here speak English."

"Doc, where am I?"

"You are in a small village on the northern border of Afghanistan and Tajikistan. What can you remember about the events that brought you here?" The doctor shined a small light into his eyes to check his pupils as he desperately tried to scan his memory for anything that would clue him in to how he wound up in Tajikistan.

"I have no idea. I can't remember a thing." Dr. des Boiis nodded to his other colleagues who left the two of them alone in the small tent.

"When you arrived here, you had massive head trauma, that included some swelling in the brain. We think that it caused you to have a case of temporary amnesia. You've lost a good part of the memories of your personal life, yes?"

Looking down to his lap dejectedly, he nodded with the doctor. "I can't even remember my own name."

"Well, the good news is that it's temporary."

Hope started to bubble in his heart at the thought of regaining the memories he'd lost. "Really?"

"Yes, but the process will be slow. Sometimes they'll just come back gradually. Other times, your memories will be triggered by something; an event or even a name can often trigger a flood of memories. But it's unpredictable, really. There are some things you might never remember."

Nodding his head in acceptance, his heart ached at the thought that he might never regain the memories of his old life. What if he was married? What if he had a family that he couldn't remember? He needed more answers.

"Alright, I know where I am now, but how did I get here?" The doctor shook his head.

"That, I'm not sure. But there is someone here who can answer that question." The doctor left the tent and returned a few minutes later holding the hand of a little boy who walked with a slight limp. The boy made eye contact with him, and started to smile and talk animatedly with the doctor. He ran up to the bed he was laying on, and climbed onto his lap, giving him a giant hug. Shocked but oddly comforted by the gesture, he wrapped his arms around the boy, not knowing why the child was being so affectionate. After the boy released him, he sat on the bed next to him and started talking to the doctor a mile a minute.

"What is he saying?"

"This little boy is the reason you're alive. Apparently you saved his life." He could only stare at the little boy as he continued to talk about the events that brought him here. This little boy knew more about his life than he did right now! Doctor des Boiis served as a translator.

"He said that it was a normal day when the members of your team came into the town. Him and his friends wanted to hear you sing a song, so you stopped and sang for them while the other people in your team went on ahead." He was floored as the child explained the details of that day better than anyone else could. "They heard an explosion and you ran off. The boy followed you because you were running towards his house, and he wanted to make sure his father and brothers were safe. Then he got hit in the leg with flying metal. You pulled him out of the sand when the bad men came."

The anxious soldier waited with bated breath for the child to continue. "What bad men?" The child looked scared after the doctor translated the question, and he didn't need a translator to understand the name the child spoke.

"Mouad Mohammed al-Charef."

Like a bolt of lightning flashing before his eyes, he could see images of memories that had been erased from his mind. He could remember being debriefed for the dozens of missions related to al-Charef. He could remember his team, and the bond he'd had with his men. He could remember his friend, Manuel, Dirty, and the ambush that had killed them all. But most of all, he could remember that son-of-a-bitch al-Charef, and the insane look in his eyes as he detonated bombs all over the peaceful village of Marsli. He could remember the single bullet he shot into the shoulder of the enemy, and the melee that had commenced afterwards. But the last thing he remembered shook him to the very core. He could remember the sound of cracking concrete, and shattered glass as a building collapsed on top of him.

He looked up into the boy's eyes and had to know how he'd escaped from that building. "How did I get out of the building?"

The boy continued to chat away as the doctor translated. "He said that for the rest of the day there was nothing but fighting throughout the town, and the terrorists had taken over. At night his family wanted to escape their ruined village, but the boy wouldn't let them leave without telling them the story. After dark, his father and brothers returned to the building and pulled you out of the wreckage, as a thank you for saving the boy. They were afraid to bring you to the base, lest they be blamed for your condition, so they took you with them on their family's caravan to the closest village with a doctor. And that's how you ended up here. That was about two weeks ago."

He let the information soak into his system as he contemplated his surroundings. He'd saved the life of a boy, and the boy had saved his life in return.

He'd also saved his sanity as well. He might not have the most intimate memories of his life back, but he could now remember his job. His duty. He was a soldier, and he was here to fight against the psychopaths like al-Charef, who could potentially destroy whole cities in their wake. The thirst for revenge burned in his blood, and he made an oath to himself in that moment that he wouldn't rest, wouldn't stop, until Mouad Mohammed al-Charef was either captured or killed.

Or both.

He rubbed the boys' head affectionately, and said thank you to him for giving him the information he'd needed to start moving on from this ordeal. His memory of his old life might be gone, but he knew he still had a purpose in life. A goal. A mission.

He had to get back to the Army. He had a terrorist to find.

"Doctor, how will I be able to get in touch with the Army? I have to get back."

"Well, that's not so easy." The doctor looked sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You see, here on the border of Tajikstan, there isn't much need for the Army, so they only come around once every few months."

"Once every few months!" He couldn't wait that long, he had a mission to start planning. An international terrorist wanted to make his way into the United States. He might not have been able to remember his own name, but he could remember the chilling threats by al-Charef's men that his main goal was to get into the US.

"But it's been a while since the last time they were here, so you won't really have to wait that long. This is a good thing, soldier. You'll have extra time to heal, and maybe this time of rest will help you focus on regaining your memories."

Finn took a deep breath as the little boy and doctor stared at him, waiting for a response. What other choice did he have? But part of him didn't want to remember his old life right away. He wanted to focus on being a soldier. He wanted vengeance over al-Charef for what he did that day in Marsli, and avenge Manuel and his team. He needed vindication for the memories that had been taken from him by the actions of al-Charef. He wanted the guy dead, so he wouldn't be able to hurt innocent people anymore. The world wasn't safe with Mouad Mohammed al-Charef in it.

He made up his mind. He would find the bastard, get his revenge, and then return to his old life and try to pick up the pieces.

It was the only way he would be able to live with himself.

"Okay, doc. I'll stay."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It had been about a month since Hudson woke up without his memories or a shred of self-awareness. Because he couldn't remember what the F in his name stood for, he just went by the name Hudson nowadays. It kind of fit him, he thought. Every day, he discovered something new about himself, and tried to piece together the different facets of his personality.

So far, all he knew was that he wasn't the smartest guy to walk the planet. No matter how often the doctor and little boy tried to teach him Pashto, he just couldn't grasp it. He could barely hold a conversation with the little boy's family, even through that's where he'd been staying since Doctor des Boiis had released him from the hospital.

He became the village's unofficial protector, wearing his Army gear at all times and patrolling the perimeter of the small village daily. He was going to keep this place safe no matter what.

The little boy joined him on his patrols, walking alongside him at all times like a shadow. His name was Farshad, and he treated Hudson like a hero. The day the Army finally came to the small village and found Hudson there alive, was the day Farshad shared something else about Hudson's old life.

"So, this is it, buddy." He sat with Farshad on the outskirts of the town center, where they would play soccer with the other village boys. His Pashto was just good enough to say his goodbyes, but he understood the majority of what Farshad was saying.

"I'm gonna miss you, Music Man." Hudson startled at the name. He'd never heard Farshad call him that before.

"Music Man?" Farshad nodded his head enthusiastically. A memory, though hazy, reminded him that it had been a nick name created for him by his deceased friend, Manuel.

"You sing!" Farshad pointed to the lapel of his Army uniform, and Hudson looked quizzically at a tiny silver pin that stood out and shined next to his medals. How had he not noticed that before? Pulling it off of his jacket, he brought the little pin up to his face and analyzed it with a critical eye. It was definitely a music note, that much he could remember. With a burst of pride at his hazy memories, he realized that it was a bass clef. Sometimes his memory wasn't so shot! Had he been a musical person in his old life? Farshad said he sang, and sometimes the little boy knew him better than he knew himself.

"I sing?"

Farshad jumped in front of Hudson and started to dance and sing around him in circles. "Small town girl! Lonely world!"

With those five mispronounced words, Hudson felt his mind racing as the lyrics proved to be an intense trigger on his forgotten memories. The desert village melted away from his vision and was replaced with a dark stage and an empty auditorium. He was singing, no, he was rehearsing, with people, and they all belted their voices out into the empty audience like they were performing for royalty.

_"Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere."_ He could feel the excitement bubbling under his skin. He loved to perform. It set his blood on fire in his veins.

He watched as a girl stepped forward, a girl whose face he couldn't see. Nothing about her image was distinguishable; due to his memory loss it was completely fuzzy. But she was there, and she was a petite brunette, which was the only detail he could make out in his hazy memory.

Until she opened her mouth.

_"Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere."_ The sound that reverberated in his mind was so unique and special he could barely trust his memory. He actually knew someone who could sing like this? Her voice was so beautiful, so mind-blowingly amazing. He had to know who this girl was!

Her hands reached out for his, and he reached out for her. . .

But as quickly as the memory flashed before his eyes, it was gone. He was once again in the hot, stifling desert with little Farshad, getting ready to rejoin the Army.

It took him a minute to calm his racing heart from the adrenaline he felt in his system from the triggered memories. That had been intense, more intense than when he'd remembered the Battle of Marsli. Who _was_ that girl? And why would he remember her now?

Looking down at the little pin in his hands, he shook his head in despair. His memory was still shot to shit, and he could never lead a normal life without it. He clipped the little pin back on his lapel and said his final goodbye to Farshad before joining the convoy of Army men, and heading back to their base.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hudson sat in a room, surrounded by distinguished Army officers who were all staring at him like he had an extra nose. He had just been through a whopping fifteen hours of Army-grade medical exams. He'd had a brain scan, a body scan; pretty much any kind of scan available. He ran on treadmills and breathed in tubes. The doctors had said he was completely healthy.

Except for the missing chunk of memories in his brain.

"So let me get this straight, son. You can remember your Army training, and the Battle of Marsli, correct."

"Yes, sir."

"But you cannot remember your first name or any other specifics about your personal life."

"No, sir."

The older man nodded his head. "I see." He looked through a portfolio and ran down the list of information. "Well soldier, your name is Specialist Finn Hudson." Hudson blanched visibly. Finn? The F in his name stood for Finn? What a pansy-ass name! He liked Hudson a lot better. He planned on sticking with it.

"You are the son of PFC Christopher Hudson who died in Operation Desert Storm in 1994." He let that information sink in. He grew up without a father, who had been a war hero himself. "Your mother, Carole Hudson, is remarried and living in Lima, Ohio, where you stated your permanent address to be." Okay, he was from Ohio.

Lame.

"You are listed as single/unmarried, with no dependents." Okay, he wasn't married and he didn't have kids. He looked up at the various officers who still stared at him with various looks of unease. "We are a little wary to let you back into the Army, Specialist Hudson. You've already been awarded the Purple Heart for your bravery in action, and we think it might be better for you to return home to your family."

He stood up from his seat abruptly, shocking both himself and the members of the mini-tribunal he was facing. "With all due respect, sir, I would rather be reinstated with the Army. I am one of the only soldiers to ever face al-Charef and live to talk about it. I know for a fact his goal is to get into the US."

"Son, we have reason to beleive he is already in the US." His blood froze in his veins. Now he really wanted to go back to the army! He would never be able to live with himself if al-Charef terrorized on American soil. "We do not feel like you are stable enough for combat anymore."

"I don't need to be in combat, sir. I can work with Homeland Security and stop him from inside the country." He watched anxiously as the officers debated with each other over the amnesiac Specialist taking a position with Homeland Security. After a few tense minutes and one short phone call to Washington, the head officer gave Hudson a hard nod.

"It's your choice, son. You can either return home to Ohio, or you can take a position with Homeland Security in New York City. That place has been a hotbed of terrorist activity these days, and if al-Charef winds up anywhere, it'll be Manhattan." He didn't even have to think twice about it. He wouldn't be able to move on with his life until al-Charef was no longer an issue. Then he would be able to return to Ohio.

But al-Charef came first. This was his new mission, and he would never stop until it was complete.

"I'll take the position in New York, sir." In New York, he would be able to focus on one thing, and one thing only. Mouad Mohammed al-Charef and his demise. This was perfect. New York was plenty far away from Ohio. He would be able to focus on his new mission without having to be reminded of the old life he'd forgotten. Then he could return home, and try to pick up the pieces of what he'd left behind.

Maybe even find the girl from his memories. The singer.

Whoever she was.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Finn's an AMNESIAC! And he can't remember Rachel! OH NOOOO!

And tomorrow is THE MINSK'S BIRTHDAY! WOO-HOOO!

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	8. A River In Egypt

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Thank you for all the birthday wishes! I had a fabulous day, now onward with the next chapter.

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Eight: A River In Egypt****  
**  
Carole Hudson considered herself to be a remarkably strong woman. How could she not be? She became a single mother and widow at the painfully young age of 26. She had to watch her only son grow up without a father figure, only to become the strongest, most bravest man she'd ever known. She had to suffer through weeks of thinking that her only son, her baby boy, was dead or captured in a far off place.

But as she stared down at the letter, handwritten by her only child, she didn't know if she had the strength to even read it.

_He's alive Carole. Read the damn letter and figure out why your baby boy still isn't home in your arms.__  
_  
Her hands were shaking as she stared down at the paper. She would be able to recognize the clumsy scrawl anywhere; she'd had to scrub it off the walls all the time when he was a young boy. Finn had a thing for crayons and blank walls when he was younger. Thus the reason for the cowboy wallpaper in his room. She held the paper in her hands, thinking that Finn had touched this himself, solid proof that he wasn't dead or missing any longer.

So why was there a letter in her hands instead of her son in her arms?

Looking around the empty house, she was glad that Burt was working late tonight. The house was empty as she took a deep breath and started to read the letter from her son. Her Finn.

_Dear Mom,__  
__  
__I've had to re-write this letter so many times I've lost count already. No mater how many times I repeat the words I want to say over in my head, it never sounds right. So I figure I should just tell you the truth and hope that you'll understand.__  
__  
__There was an accident, the day I went missing. I woke up a few weeks ago with little to no memory of my life outside of the Army. I can't remember you, our family, or my old friends. It's all gone. The doctors say it will come back one day, but so far, I remember very little of my old life.__  
__  
__Instead of coming home, I am joining forces with Homeland Security to capture the terrorist who did this to me; who made me forget who I was. I won't be able to rest until he's captured. I don't know how long it's going to take, but when it happens I'll finally be able to live with myself. I promise I'll come home one day and pick up the pieces of my life, but I can't do it until I've found some closure with what happened to me.__  
__  
__Don't write back. I'm going off the grid to start searching for the monster who did this to me. Just know that I'm alive, safe and willing to come home one day after this is all over.__  
__  
__I'm sorry.__  
__SPC Hudson_

Carole had to re-read the letter four times before the meaning of it truly sunk into her brain. As much as she didn't want to believe it, she knew deep down that it must have been true. He'd signed the letter 'SPC Hudson' for Christ-sakes! It was so detached, so not-Finn.

She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't angry. But a sudden thought snapped her out of her previous anger.

Rachel.

With a panic, she realized that Rachel didn't know about Finn yet. A fierce feeling of sympathy spread through her at the thought of Finn forgetting Rachel, his fiancée. Rachel was still in New York, hoping Finn would come home and marry her, but he couldn't even remember he _had_ a fiancée. He hadn't mentioned her in the letter.

With a deep sigh, Carole realized that she would have to be the one to inform Rachel about Finn's memory loss. Picking up the phone, she started to pace around the living room, waiting for the young girl to pick up her phone in New York.

"Hello, Carole?" Rachel picked up after the third ring. Carole was glad she wouldn't have to record this message as a voice mail. "What's wrong? Is it Finn? What happened?"

"Rachel, sweetie, I need you to calm down. Yes, it's about Finn." Staring down at the letter still in her hands, he heart broke over the news she had to deliver to this poor girl. "Finn is alive. They found him."

She had to pull the phone away from her ear, because Rachel had started screaming on the other end. "What happened to him? When is he coming home?"

"That's the thing, Rachel. He's not coming home." It broke her heart all over again to say those words to her son's fiancée.

"What?"

"He wrote me a letter, let me read it to you." With that, Carole read the letter that Finn had written to her. She sat and listened as Rachel's breathing hitched when she read the words that said he was putting the security of the nation above his old life. When she finished reading the letter, the silenced stretched out for what seemed like forever.

"So he can't remember me?" Carole felt so bad for this poor girl. She really liked Rachel, and knew that she would have made an amazing daughter-in-law. But without Finn's memories, she doubted that there would ever be a wedding now.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel."

"But you said in the letter that his memory would come back one day."

"It might come back one day, Rachel. We don't know that." Another tense minute ticked by, and Rachel's tone was short.

"Thank you for informing me of Finn's letter, Mrs. Hudson. I'll keep in touch." With that, the young girl hung up on Carole, and left her alone with her son's letter and the memories of her son that he might never get back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

"Rachel, it's Quinn." Rachel balanced her cell phone on her shoulder as she struggled with her heavy music textbooks in the crowded bookstore. "Call me back when you get this, we wanted to know if you were coming to my party in Williamsburg tonight. I only turn 21 once! Please try and make it!" Rachel smiled as her number was called in the queue. Selling back her textbooks was the best part of the end of the year. She never got back as much money as she wanted to, but the extra cash was more than needed.

"Alright, you'll be getting back 95 dollars for these three textbooks." Blanching visibly, she felt like pulling her hair out. She'd originally spent over three hundred dollars on five textbooks and now she was getting less than a hundred back for only three of them?

"What about these two books?" The clerk looked at them and shrugged.

"The professors are using new editions of them for next year, the store can't buy them back. Have a great summer!"

Groaning, she grabbed the receipt from the clerk and went up to the cashier to get her 95 dollars. She'd been hoping for at least 120, she had rent to make in a few days and she was stretched for cash. Sighing heavily, she counted the money as she exited the Juilliard bookstore, heading for her part-time job.

_Great, now I'll have to pull double shifts all summer just to keep a roof over my head._ She thought bitterly as she hopped on the train downtown. When Finn never came home, she took on full responsibility for the apartment she'd chosen for them. Her dads wouldn't pay the rent anymore, so she took on the strenuous and exhausting responsibility of being a full time music student and a part-time waitress.

It wasn't that her fathers were being cruel. In fact, they were hoping that she would move back to Lima for the summer and stay with them in Ohio. But she'd refused to go home ever since the day she heard that Finn was alive. There were too many memories of him there.

Memories that he couldn't even remember.

Slipping on a pair of discount sunglasses from Chinatown, she squinted in the mid-day sun. By now, the apartment shouldn't have been a problem for her anymore. Finn should have been home and working by now, helping her with the rent. But he was off somewhere fighting terrorists without any memory of her or his promises to love her forever and marry her.

Her dad's had been trying to talk some sense into her since they stopped paying rent on the apartment. They were hoping that she would move in with Quinn and Puck in Brooklyn, where they would be able to share a cheaper space. But Rachel was adamant in keeping her apartment. She'd chosen that apartment for Finn, and when he finally came back and remembered her, it would be ready for him.

She picked up her cell phone, and dialed Quinn's number as she stood outside of the cafe, hesitant to start her shift. She hated working there nowadays; she felt like she was wasting her time. If she hadn't had to work so much to make rent, she could have auditioned for summer theatre programs and various productions. She knew that the job was a hindrance to her future career, but she had to learn the hard way that the choice was either stardom or starvation.

"Hey, Man Hands, did you get my message?"

"Yes, Quinn. I don't know if I can come." She heard the blond scoffing on the other end.

"Why? Too busy changing coffee filters and making finger sandwiches?"

"Screw you! I have rent to make in five days and I got dicked out of money at the bookstore."

"Well, rent wouldn't be a problem if you just moved in with Puck and I. We can get a two-bedroom apartment in Greenpoint for 1200 even. That's only 400 dollars a person; do you realize how cheap that is in New York?" She bit her lip in anxiety. That _was_ a pretty tempting offer; 400 dollars was a fraction of what she was paying every month right now.

"No, Quinn. You know I can't. Where will Finn live when he comes home?" Quinn sighed loudly and Rachel knew that she'd said a big no-no. She had to learn to keep her thoughts to herself. No one else was as optimistic for Finn's return as she was.

"Rachel, listen to yourself. It's been six months since we found out he was alive and so far, he hasn't remembered a thing. No one even knows where he is!"

"But Carole said his memories would come back. . ."

"Rachel, you are in flat-out denial. You know it. I know it. Even Puck can tell; he noticed that you were still wearing your engagement ring at dinner last week." A burning pain in her heart throbbed steadily as she processed Quinn's words. Looking down at the shining band still on her left hand, she tried to block the truth from her mind, but she knew that Quinn was right. "Please, consider moving to Brooklyn. It's really not so bad in some spots, and the trains can get you to Manhattan super fast."

"Quinn. . . "

"Just think about it. And meet us at the Brooklyn Bowl at 10. DJ Fancypants is spinning, tonight is my 21st birthday, and I want you to be there. Unfortunately for me, you _are_ my best friend here, and we're sharing a beer, even if your birthday isn't until December."

Letting out a labored sigh, she knew she couldn't get out of meeting Puck and Quinn tonight. At least she enjoyed the music there. The Brooklyn Bowl was a very hipster-y place, but she liked it. "Okay, see you at 10. But don't blame me if I get lost on the dreaded G train."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Fuck the G train!" Rachel screamed at no one in the dark and empty night. There she was, alone, in the middle of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, completely lost and wandering the streets. How could she get lost so easily? She knew she shouldn't have shared that beer with Quinn. This never happened to her in Manhattan. This is exactly why she didn't like Brooklyn: It was so confusing! Which way was north? East? You couldn't tell!

She knew she should have just crashed on Quinn's couch. But no, she'd wanted to curl up in her fluffy bed with a bar of dark chocolate and her DVD of Funny Girl, but that was never going to happen now. Now that she couldn't find the dreaded G train to get her off of this useless chunk of land!

She rubbed her bare arms; it had become chilly during the night and she was still in the clothes she'd worn all day long. She read the street signs in the dark, hoping that she would eventually make it back to the G train, but she seemed to be walking closer and closer to the East River, where every street was lined in nondescript warehouse buildings. The exact kind of place that made girls feel like they would get attacked at any second. She reached for her pocket an sighed in relief. Her rape whistle was exactly where she always kept it.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she walked up to a pier facing the East River and the New York City skyline. She cursed under her breath. She'd been walking in the wrong direction the whole time! Now she had to backtrack to the Brooklyn Bowl, then see if she could make her way back to the G train all alone in the dark.

She whipped out her cell phone as she turned around to walk back to the venue. Maybe she should call Puck and see if he could give her directions to the G train from here. Turning around, she saw a warehouse on the opposite side of the street that had it's lights on. Looking at the time on her cell, she knew it was odd for a company to be open this late; it was way past midnight and this was a very industrial part of Brooklyn. But she noticed many people coming in and out of the warehouse, and they were all screaming at each other in a thick and jarring dialect. She realized that they were foreign, and they were loading things into a truck from inside the warehouse.

She was about to turn around and walk away, knowing that none of this was her business, when she realized that two men from the warehouse had spotted her staring at them. They were definitely Middle Eastern, that much she could tell from their clothing and long beards. One of them seemed much younger than the other, and looked at her with pure hated in his eyes. She reached for her rape whistle and clutched it in her fist when the two men walked up to her on the street.

"What are you doing here?" She startled when the older man yelled at her harshly in a thick accent. Her feet felt glued to the ground when all she wanted to do was run. She was never taking the G train ever again after tonight.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to get to the G train from here, would you?" She felt like a complete fool as the two men glared at her like she was a fly in their food. One of the men grabbed her by the arm and she immediately put the rape whistle up to her lips and blew like there was no tomorrow.

The chilly night air was filled with the screeching of a whistle, and the men let go of her and ran back to the warehouse, loading boxes into the truck faster than ever. She watched, stunned, as two black vans suddenly appeared out of the night and onto the dark street. The truck sped off into the night, leaving thick black tire marks on the road in it's wake, as one of the black vans went speeding after it. The other van stopped right in front of where Rachel was still standing with her mouth agape. She almost fainted when about 10 men in Army uniforms came out with their rifles, heading into the warehouse and pulling people out of it and onto the street.

She just stood there and watched the scene unfold before her, unable to move. It was like watching a car accident she couldn't turn away from, as the soldiers pulled the people out of the warehouse one by one and lined them up on the sidewalk. None of these men in front of her were the ones who had stopped her. She would never forget their faces.

"Where is he? Goddammit, _where is he_?" With a loud roar, a man stepped out of the front seat of the van in front of her, heading for the soldiers in the warehouse. She was intimidated by the screaming she heard, and deep down she knew she should have left a long, long time ago. But something kept her rooted in her place. Besides the fact she still didn't know how to get to the G train.

She watched as the tall man looked through every person they had pulled out of the warehouse. "He's not here! We've been planning this for three months, what the hell scared him away?" She blanched in fear when she saw one of the soldiers point at her from across the street. She seriously considered running; she had no idea what had just happened, but she was pretty sure those men in the warehouse had not been good guys.

Slowly, the tall soldier turned around until he was staring right at her. Panic spread through her when she realized that she had somehow messed up something _really_ important, when all she'd been doing was try to get home in one piece. He marched up to her with purpose in his step, and she had to crane her neck to look up into his face. The streetlight was dim, but she could make out some of his features. . .

_Oh. My. GOD._

"Listen. I don't know what happened here, but you have just compromised a mission that we've been planning for the better part of three months. You just scared away an international terrorist who has the means to turn Manhattan into dust!"

Shaking her head slowly, she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her eyes. Soaking in the image in front of her, she started to feel dizzy, overwhelmed. The broad shoulders, the various birthmarks and moles scattered across his face and neck. His Army uniform, full of impressive looking badges and a small, shining bass clef pin on the lapel.

It was him.

"Finn?" The name escaped her lips without her even realizing it. The look of shock on his face was more than enough proof that the person in front of her at the very moment was her long-lost amnesiac fiancé. She watched, stunned, as his expression morphed from shock to anger. She felt a large, strong hand grab her upper arm for the second time that night.

"How the hell do you know my name?" She started to feel light-headed, and his voice sounded like it was coming from far, far away. . . "Do I know you from somewhere?"

A distant memory of her and Finn took her out of the stressful situation and into the blissful ignorance of fantasy. The day that Finn had found her in the airport was the scene that was flashing before her eyes. _"Excuse me miss, do I know you from somewhere?"_ He'd teased her for not recognizing him. Was she allowed to tease him now for not recognizing her? She could remember the feeling of his arms around her, swinging her through the air at their reunion. This reunion, was not so sweet.

The memory melted away as she returned to the dark street in Williamsburg. Cold, hard, unfamiliar eyes glared down at her as she struggled to stay conscious. But the events of the evening had finally caught up with her, and her vision started to go blurry and dark. The last thing she heard was loud cursing before she collapsed onto the street and fainted at her fiancés feet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Reunited, and it feels so awkward!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	9. That Girl

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

A/N: OK, So I wasn't going to write this until next week, but I realized that I wouldn't be able to update until Tuesday, which is just plain unfair for a cliffie of this magnitude. So hopefully, this will keep you satisfied until the weekend is over. The reason why I can't write? I am going to The GLEE CONCERT AT RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL! I will be witness to their epic-ness LIVE! Be jealous of MEEE!

**Hero**

**Chapter Nine: That Girl**

"Fall out boys, tonight is the night we've all been waiting for!" Specialist Hudson gave the orders to his team as he geared up and readied himself for the mission he'd been planning for months. He started to work himself up, pumping the adrenaline through his body in preparation for the task at hand.

_Tonight, Hudson. After tonight, al-Charef will no longer be a threat to the American people, and you can finally start moving on with your life. _

He had to suppress a scoff at his own random thinking. Move on with his life? What life? He no longer _had_ a life; all that mattered was the capture and arrest of Mouad Mohammed al-Charef. He'd thought of nothing but the mission since he arrived back in the states half a year ago.

He grabbed his rifle and followed his men out of the headquarters and towards their cargo vans. He gave the driver the signal to leave, and the two vans pulled onto the FDR Drive to head to Brooklyn. Looking in his reflection in the passenger side window, he ran a hand down his face in exhaustion. How long had he been planning this mission? How many nights had he stayed up until sunrise, translating Pashto to English after tapping their wires and intercepting their messages? How long had it been since he'd had a decent meal or night's sleep? His exhaustion was finally catching up to him, but he knew it would all be worth it after tonight. All he'd cared about was al-Charef, and today was the day he would finally be vindicated for what had happened to him.

"Sir, we're approaching the Brooklyn Bridge." His driver, a soldier who had been with his team for the majority of his time in New York, gave him a sideways glance. "You know, some of the other guys were wondering, what your first name was. You've been our team leader for over five months and no one even knows your name."

Glaring angrily at the driver, he answered the question loudly enough so the boys in the back of the van could hear it. "My name? It's, 'None of your fucking business'. Don't ask again." The driver said nothing and turned his head back around quickly, knowing he'd offended his commanding officer. Clenching his hands into tight fists, Hudson looked out of the window over the East River, staring at the Brooklyn skyline sadly.

No one here knew his name. Hell, he didn't think the Sergeant even knew his name, and he'd read his file. He hated it. Every time he thought of his name he would get flashbacks and memories of times he couldn't remember fully. It was all flashes of memories that were taken out of context, and he couldn't stand not knowing more about his past. So, to avoid the annoying memory flashes, he'd stopped saying or thinking about his name altogether. There was something about names that served as the most powerful trigger to his old memories. But right now, he cared less about remembering his old life and more about capturing al-Charef. What good were memories when there was an international terrorist planning to blow up New York?

He was almost positive that al-Charef and his followers were planning an attack of massive proportions on the city of Manhattan. The number of car bombs and other various bomb threats had been steadily increasing since his return to the states, and he'd been in charge of the mission to find al-Charef since the beginning. He'd perfected his Pashto so he could spy on their phone calls and messages. He'd bribed people who knew of al-Charef, and tried to gain the trust of Afghani-American civilians who had been able to point him in the right direction. It had taken him weeks just to find their storage facility; a shady warehouse by the Williamsburg docks. He knew that tonight was the night that they would be transporting some major weapons, and he knew he had to intercept al-Charef tonight or else he would slip through his fingers with enough weapons to blow up the city of New York.

The vans parked a few blocks away from the warehouse, setting up their surveillance equipment and waiting for the opportune moment to ambush the small warehouse. Breathing in the cool night air, Hudson knew that this was his chance to end it all tonight. He loved being a soldier; deep down he knew that he'd loved it even before the memory loss. But it felt like there was always something _missing_ from his life. Something he couldn't explain. Something he couldn't remember.

_That girl._

Closing his eyes, he knew this was neither the time nor the place to be reminiscing in old memories that lacked context, but there was _something_ about his hazy memories of that girl. The singer. She had to be of some significant importance to him if he was able to remember her at all. If only he could remember her face. Or her name. Something besides an empty auditorium and the sound of her voice echoing off the walls of his mind.

Maybe if he caught al-Charef, he would be able to find her when he returned home to Ohio. She was probably just a high school girlfriend or something, but so far she was the only concrete memory he had of his old life. It made him feel like his life wasn't so empty. That he didn't have to hide behind the facade of the tough soldier when he really felt lost and damaged.

Snapping out of his daydreams, he realized that his team should start the ambush of the warehouse. He radioed the other van, and gave the command to approach the block. When the vans were about a block away, a shrill, piercing sound filled the night.

"FUCK!" Turning to his driver, he started to curse wildly. "Go! Fucking go!" The driver slammed his foot on the pedal and the vans approached the warehouse. He watched in abject horror as the truck filled with weapons and explosions made off into the night.

_Charef better be here, dammit, or I am going to explode!_

"Where is he? Goddammit, _where is he?_" He slammed the door to the van as he searched the warehouse for al-Charef. Staring down each and every man on the sidewalk, he realized that al-Charef was not among them. "He's not here! We've been planning this for three months, what the hell scared him away?" One of his soldiers pointed to a young girl on the opposite side of the street, frozen in place and watching the scene unfold before her like she was watching an episode of 24. Pure anger flowed through him unabashedly as he soaked in the image of the petite young woman who had ruined a mission that had been three months in the making. He marched right up to her, ready to give the civilian the biggest chewing-out of his life. She stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Listen. I don't know what happened here, but you have just compromised a mission that we've been planning for the better part of three months. You just scared away an international terrorist who has the means to turn Manhattan into dust!" He waited for her response, but she continued to stare at him like he was a ghost or something. He couldn't really make out the features of her face; the street light was dim and it was very late. But he could see that her mouth was wide open in shock, and he waited to hear how she'd been able to scare away an international terrorist.

"Finn?" Hearing his name, spoken by a complete and utter stranger, had been such a shock that he was completely unprepared for the powerful memory flash he'd experienced in that moment. He might have looked shocked from the outside, but before his eyes flashed memories of events and people that he couldn't remember, all calling his name.  
_  
"I am like Tinkerbell, Finn! I need applause to live!"_

_"Grow up, Finn!"_

_"I agree with Finn. You guys should stop being asses and start being bad-asses."_

He was so disoriented, he couldn't control the anger that started to flow through him like poison. Who was this girl and how did she instantly conjure up memories of a life he couldn't even remember?

"How the hell do you know my name?" Squinting in the dim light of the street, he couldn't help think that there was something familiar about her. Did he know her? "Do I know you from somewhere?"

He watched as she started to sway dangerously under his mini-interrogation, and balked when she actually collapsed at his feet. "Oh, for Fucks sake!"

He bent down and checked her pulse, furrowing his brow when he realized that her heartbeat was racing. He called over one of the members of his team and ordered him to call an ambulance.

"Do you want me to stay with her, sir?" Looking down at the small girl at his feet, the one person who might have actually known him before the accident, he felt oddly connected with her. Shaking his head, he knew deep down that she _had_ to have known him; that was the only reason he could think of how she'd known his name. A fierce feeling spread through him in that moment. He wasn't letting this girl out of his sight until he got some answers.

"No. I'll stay with her. I want this entire area searched. Close off the entire block. I'll take her to the hospital." The other soldier walked away, and he bent down to pick up the petite brunette. Carefully balancing her in his arms, he walked over to the lamplight so he could see her face.

Big mistake.

She was so beautiful! His breath caught in his throat when he absorbed the image of her in his arms. Her olive skin was creamy in the soft lighting, and much darker than he'd expected. Her lips were full and pouting, and her cheeks had a rosy glow. Her face was round and young-looking, and the most prominent feature was her nose. It was a little too large for conventional beauty, but he thought it made her look very. . .unique. Exotic, even.

He spent a whole minute staring at her face, memorizing every inch of it. This girl, this beautiful girl, actually _knew_ him. She could tell him things about himself that no one else could, he was sure of it. Everything about her seemed so painfully familiar. . .

Before he could dwell too much on the stunning young woman in his arms, the blaring siren of the ambulance filled his senses. When the EMT's arrived, he placed the girl on the gurney, and the EMT's were about to take her away. Panic spread through him when he realized that he didn't even know her name. He had to know! If he really had known her in his old life, then her name could potentially unlock an avalanche of memories about her. And if he'd really known this girl once before, then he was sure they were memories he'd want to remember.

"Can I accompany you to the hospital?" The EMT gave him a quizzical look and he put on his Army facade again. "She needs to be interrogated when she wakes up. She was a witness to something, and I need to file a report with her." Well, it wasn't _exactly _untrue. He really did have to file a report about this, but her testimony wasn't of importance.

"Of course, sir." Hopping into the back of the Ambulance, he sat next to the gurney and stared at the unknown woman.

They had a lot to talk about when she woke up.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Specialist Finn Hudson wasn't the only person that night who had been infatuated by Rachel Berry.

Mouad Mohammed al-Charef, international terrorist and adamant jihad-ist, watched from the roof of the adjacent warehouse building as the tall soldier carried the young girl to an ambulance. He sneered down at the soldiers who had infiltrated his warehouse. He was lucky his men had installed all those secret entrances. He'd been able to make the perfect escape right before the Army had arrived.

Cursing in Pashto, he watched as the ambulance pulled away with the girl. Sure, when he first saw her he was filled with the same hate he felt while observing all Americans. But when he saw her face up close, he had to stop himself from screaming out loud.

She looked just like Sabwa.

Sure, Sabwa's skin had been much darker. And her eyes had been a shade of green so brilliant, that emeralds would have been envious of her. But she looked just like _that girl_. He burned in indignation; some American bitch stole his Sabwa's face!

His heart still lurched painfully when he thought of his beloved Sabwa. It was the Americans fault that she was taken from him! They had been students in Kabul together, until the day the Americans arrived and the attacks had started. She was caught in the crossfires of a battle, and was killed. If it wasn't for the Americans, his Sabwa would still be alive. Then he wouldn't have been recruited by al-Queda at the age of 19. He also wouldn't have been on an International Wanted list at 22.

It was all the Americans fault! They took everything from him; his love, his family, his life.

And now they would all pay.

Calling over his number one man, who'd been able to escape the warehouse with him, he ordered him to follow the ambulance and find the name of the girl. The one who looked like Sabwa.

That girl would pay first, for stealing his Sabwa's face.

He would make her death quick and painless.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Finn sat anxiously next to the bed of the unknown girl, waiting for her to wake up. The doctors had said that her blood pressure was low, and that they were keeping her overnight. He used his Military cred to stay after hours with her until she woke up.

Staring at the small girl in the large bed, a flash of light drew his attention to her left hand. There was a ring on her third finger; this girl was obviously either engaged or married. He should have known a girl as pretty as her would already be taken. He thought he could see writing on the ring, and he moved forward to see what it said, when he noticed her eyelashes fluttering. Sitting back again, he took off his helmet in anticipation. He ran a hand over his shaved head, and watched as she slowly became conscious and aware of her surroundings. She made eye contact with him, and her face morphed into a mask of shock. She didn't move, didn't speak, just sat there and stared at him like he was a mirage.

"You're finally awake." _Oh, how suave, Hudson! You've only been sitting here for an hour thinking about what you were going to say and that's what you came up with?_

She looked around the room and frowned deeply. "Where am I?"

"Bellevue Hospital. You fainted. Your blood pressure is low." She nodded and started to stare at him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable. He figured he should just start talking. He had a lot to say. "You know me." It was a statement, and not a question. She continued to stare and he realized in that moment that she was infinitely more beautiful while conscious. Her eyes were chocolate brown and swirling with emotions he couldn't understand.

He watched as she started to collapse in on herself, crossing her arms in front of her and looking away from him. "Yes."

"What's your name? I have to know." He waited while she continued to stare at him, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"Rachel Berry."

In that moment, he had the strongest memory flash he'd ever experienced. Hundreds of memories flashed before his eyes like a slide show, and every single one of them was of this one girl, sitting before him. They all took place in what looked like a high school, and the faces of the people in the background were starting to get clearer.

_"You're better than all of them."_

_"Girls want sex just as much as guy's do!"_

_"You know what we should do?" "Elope?"_

_"We're gonna win because we're different. That what makes us special."_

_"I'm sleeping with him." "So am I."_

_"I'm gonna start calling you F-Rod!"_

The last thing he saw, before his subconscious returned him to the hospital room, was the singer from his previous memories standing on the stage, belting her heart out. This time, when she turned around to sing with him, it was Rachel standing in front of him instead of the hazy ghost of a memory.

It was _her_.

When his mind returned to the present, he knew that his memories hadn't fully returned. He didn't know if he'd ever dated her or was just her friend, but he did know that she knew him. And he knew her.

For the first time since he woke up from the accident, he felt like a real person. Normally he felt like a shell of himself, like something was always missing. But here, in this little room with this girl that he could barely remember, he felt like a new man. A normal man.

She was still staring at him, but now her brow was furrowed in confusion. How long had he been sitting here while his lost memories flashed before his eyes?

Reaching over the bed, he grabbed her hand. "I know this is going to sound insane, but I know that I know you. I just can't remember. But we do know each other right? Rachel?" Repeating her name made his heart pound for some reason. It rolled off of his tongue in the most pleasant way.

"Yes. We know each other." He watched as she started to play with the ring on her finger. She twisted it around so he could no longer see the writing on the front, whatever it had said. "We were very close, once."

Her answer left him both confused and ecstatic. They had been close! But what had happened to them? He watched as she started to cry softly. He had no idea how to console her. What could he say?

Before he could open his mouth, the door opened and his Sergeant entered the room in long and purposeful strides. Standing up, he saluted his commanding officer as Rachel watched from the bed with wide eyes.

"Specialist Hudson, we are moving the civilian to headquarters immediately." He blanched. Civilians weren't allowed in HQ unless they were a threat to national security! He saw Rachel clutch her hospital blanket from his peripheral vision. He didn't like that she was scared.

"With all due respect, sir, can I ask why?"

"We have reason to believe that she is in danger." He felt his heart seize in his chest at the thought of Rachel in trouble of any kind. He might have only met her tonight, but she was his last hope. His only connection to his old life. He waited with bated breath as the Sergeant continued. What he said next, left his blood like ice in his veins.

"Charef wants her."

Clenching his hands into fists, he made an oath on the lives of his fallen men that he wouldn't let al-Charef anywhere near Rachel. He didn't know what Charef wanted with her, but he wasn't letting Rachel out of his sight from this moment on.

_He wants her? Over my dead body._

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Salut mes amis!

I hope this holds you over until Tuesday! Happy Memorial Day!

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	10. Different

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy.

A/N: So I saw the Glee concert this weekend and I was blown away with how amazing they all sounded live. It was truly one of the most amazing experiences of my life! Now, on with the story!

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Ten: Different**

Rachel Berry had always dreamed of a life of stardom. She knew it was in the cards for her, no matter what had happened in her personal life. She'd always looked forward to the day when she was so recognizable, so famous, that she would need bodyguards following her around wherever she went. She always thought it had sounded glamorous.

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

She was being escorted out of the hospital in a wheelchair with her missing fiancé at her side, armed with the kind of gun that made Rachel nervous just to be around. She didn't like guns. A hospital employee pushed her outside to an unmarked van, and Rachel felt more than a little panicked. She really had no idea what was going on, and added to the stress she'd experienced earlier that night, and she was more than a little frayed.

Staring up at her bodyguard, the one who couldn't remember that he was engaged to her, she couldn't keep her eyes off his face. He was so _different_ now. It wasn't just the way he looked either; it was his attitude and demeanor that had changed completely. No longer was he the awkwardly adorable boy she'd fallen for. He was a soldier now, and to him that was all he knew. She had to admit that he was playing the part well; he stood at her side on full alert, scanning the area around them, determining if it was safe. When he looked at her, it was guarded, and she could tell that he never relaxed; he was always on alert. But that was something she would just have to get used to. She just needed more answers about what had happened to him. She noticed that he had a nasty scar going down the back of his head; she'd been able to see it while he was talking to his commanding officer before. That must have been where he'd been hurt, thus explaining the brain damage and memory loss. But she couldn't deny that this soldier was her Finn. He just wasn't _her Finn_ anymore.

She didn't know how much more stress her heart could take in one night. First she got lost, almost got attacked, found her missing fiancé who still couldn't remember her, and found out that a terrorist might be after her, for no good reason.

These kinds of things just didn't happen to normal people!

She was surprised when she found herself being lifted out of her chair and onto her feet by Specialist Hudson. She'd called him "Finn" on the way downstairs and he'd asked her not to call him by his first name. He hadn't been mean about it, but it had still hurt her feelings. She obliged anyway, and now she had to call him "Hudson". It made her sad to be so formal with the man who had once planned on marrying her. The same man who used to scratch his balls and fart in front of her.

"Do you need help getting into the van, Miss Berry?" Her heart ached when she heard him call her by her last name. She was exhausted, and really didn't have the strength to be out of the hospital, let alone travel.

"Yes, please." He nodded at her and she felt herself being lifted off of the ground and into his arms. For a second, she closed her eyes and imagined that he was holding her close to him on purpose, and that his soft caress of her legs was intended, and not just a way to balance her in his arms. He placed her gently onto the passengers seat, and climbed into the driver's seat to drive them to HQ.

When he started the car, she could feel the awkwardness spreading throughout the large vehicle. They were the only ones there, and Rachel started to play with her hair, needing to find something to do with her hands.

"Don't be scared." Her head whipped around when she heard Hudson's low voice filling the car. He was looking out at the road, but she could tell that he was peeking at her through his periphery.

"What?" Her fingers were still twisting the ends of her hair into tight curls and she couldn't stop.

"You look like you're about to snap, you're so tense. You don't have to be scared. We're going to take care of everything." He tried to be reassuring, but Rachel just sighed deeply and continued her attack on her hair. The international terrorist wasn't the problem. The problem was that she was sitting next to the man she loved and he couldn't tell her from Eve!

"Who is this guy; this Charef guy? And what's his deal? Why does he want me?" It was difficult for Rachel to even wrap her head around something as serious as a terrorist chasing after her.

Hearing a deep and tired sigh, she watched as Hudson ran a large hand over his face in exhaustion. "He is the reason I can't remember anything."

She couldn't control the small gasp that escaped her lips. "Tell me. Tell me everything." He took his eyes off the road and looked at her severely, gaging her reaction to see if it was genuine. "I need to know, Hudson. I have to know what happened to you."

With a firm nod, he began his story. He started with his various missions that he'd gone on during his service, trying to track him down and remove his presence from the area. He told her about the Battle of Marsli, and how he'd risked his life to save a child and wound up in the rubble of a collapsed building. She sat in awe of his ordeal when he described how it was like to wake up without a shred of memory of who he was, and how hard it was trying to pick up the pieces of a life he couldn't remember.

By the time his story was over, the tears were like rivers down her face. She had no idea how much he'd suffered throughout his journey back to the US. She could tell that he was still suffering; she would never forget the look of pure anguish on his face when he described waking up in a foreign camp without any memory of his old life. He'd looked at her with tears in his eyes, though he wouldn't let them fall.

"So now, al-Charef is here, and he's planning something big. Instead of returning to Ohio, I decided to track him down and capture him from inside the country. I can't live with myself knowing that he's out there hurting more innocent people. And as much as I would like to remember my life from before, I can't move on until this is all over." Silence filled the van as the civilian and soldier drove into an underground entrance. She stared in awe as the van drove through a vast underground tunnel, leading them to his secret headquarters.

Processing the information provided by her amnesiac fiancé, she was starting to piece together the enigma that was Finn's disappearance. He'd been wounded, damaged, and put through hell, all in order to find this one person. He'd sacrificed so much, but she couldn't stop the sting of selfishness that prickled through her. She wanted her Finn back! She wanted nothing more but to scream "Screw al-Charef!" at the top of her lungs, but she knew how petty and juvenile that sounded. He was putting his life on the line to capture a dangerous man, someone who had the potential to destroy whole cities with his hate and intolerance. Who was she to be selfish?

Nodding her head to herself, she made up her mind about his lost memories. She would have to be just as selfless as he was being. He said he wouldn't be able to move on until Charef was captured, so she would make sure that he wasn't distracted by the memories of his old life. She would try to make this as easy as possible for him. Then, one day, when Charef was captured, she would sit him down and tell him everything. But she couldn't distract him from his mission by drowning him in old memories. What was the point?

The van stopped in front of an unmarked door, and Hudson escorted her inside, flashing an ID tag and moving her past security. She could feel all eyes on her as she walked down the narrow hallways with Hudson at her side, on guard as always. He led her to a small conference room, where the man from the hospital was waiting for them.

"Specialist Hudson, Miss Berry. Please have a seat." Rachel sat down across from the officer and was surprised when Hudson sat next to her instead of the Sergeant. He shot her a sideways glance as the older man placed various pictures in front of her.

"Now, Ms. Berry, I would like for you to explain to me and Specialist Hudson everything that happened to you earlier tonight. Why were you in Brooklyn, and how did you end up near these warehouses?" Rachel tried to explain everything as detailed as possible. Quinn's birthday party, finding the G train, seeing the truck in the warehouse; she regurgitated every detail to the best of her ability. She could feel Hudson's eyes on her throughout the entire interrogation. After she finished, the Sergeant pointed to several black and white photographs in front of her.

"Miss Berry, were these any of the men who spoke to you tonight?" Rachel squinted at the blurry photos and gasped when she recognized the faces in front of her. She pointed to the older man and said, "That was the one who yelled at me!" The sergeant pushed another photo closer to her and asked her if it was the same man. She nodded and she could see Hudson starting to clench his hands into fists on the table.

"This is Charef's number two man, Hamid. This picture was taken inside the hospital, earlier tonight. He followed you back to Manhattan." A wave of fear spread through her as the situation became more and more serious. "We have reason to believe he read your file at the hospital. That's how we were able to deduce that Charef wanted you. Was this the other man who talked to you?" The Sergeant pushed another photo towards her and she instantly recognized the man in the photo. She would never forget that face.

"That was the other man! The man who grabbed me." Hudson took one look at the photo and shot out of his seat. She watched, stunned, as he started to pace around the small room, cursing loudly.

"That Mother Fucker!" He kicked the chair and Rachel had to stifle an inappropriate laugh. He still had a habit of kicking furniture while he was angry. Some things never changed. Rachel's head moved from her fiancé back to the Sergeant as the older man explained patiently.

"This man here, is Mouad Mohammed al-Charef." Rachel felt her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She could remember the look of hate in his eyes while they were standing on the dark street. She got chills of fear at the memory.

"But Sergeant, I don't understand. What does he want with me? I didn't do anything." None of this was making sense.

"Well, I've been doing some research in Charef's file, and I think I may have found something that we can work with." The officer started to browse through the files in front of him as Hudson stopped pacing. Pulling out a photo with a flourish, the Sergeant placed it in front of Rachel.

"This is a picture of Charef, circa 2003, at the University of Kabul. Notice the person standing next to him." Rachel and Hudson both leaned down close to the picture, trying to decipher why it was so important. It looked like a bunch of young students posing for a harmless photo together. But as Rachel squinted, trying to find al-Charef in the photo, she noticed something else that stood out next to him.

A girl who looked just like her.

Suddenly the photo was pulled away from her. She looked up at Hudson, who was holding the picture as close to his face as would allow. He kept looking back and forth from the picture to Rachel, with his brow furrowed in confusion. Finally, after placing the photo back down on the table, he turned to his commanding officer.

"What should we do about this sir? It's obvious Miss Berry is in danger."

"Specialist, I am assigning you as this woman's bodyguard for the remainder of the mission. It is clear that Miss Berry is a target of Charef's and you know him better than any other man in my unit. I want you in civilian clothes with weapons hidden, at Miss Berry's side at all times."

She raised her hand to interrupt them. Injustice burned in her blood at the thought of these men planning her life like she wasn't even in the room with them. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I have a job and a life. I can't just have a soldier following me around like it's nothing!"

The Sergeant gave her a severe look while Hudson shook his head. "Sir, may I have a moment alone with the civilian?" The Sergeant nodded and left Rachel alone in the room with her fiancé. He stared at her for a good minute before opening his mouth to speak.

"You were my first memory."

Blinking furiously, she shook her head in confusion. "What?"

"When I was in Tajikistan, all alone, without any memory of my life or any connection to a human being, I was able to remember you. I didn't know at the time that I was remembering you specifically, but I was on a stage, and I was singing with someone. Then I saw the image of a girl, though I couldn't see her face. She was singing, and she had the most beautiful voice I had ever heard." She could feel her throat tighten with emotion as tears pooled in her eyes. "Then, tonight, I was able to remember that the person I was singing with was you." He walked up to her chair and grabbed her hand in his. She felt her heart pounding erratically in her chest. His hands were still just as rough as she'd remembered. "You're the only thing I can remember, Rachel." Hearing her name on his lips was heavenly. "And I can't let anything happen to you. Do you understand that? You're the only thing I have left."

She could do nothing but nod furiously as the tears trailed down her cheeks for the umpteenth time that night. What time was it even? It had to be the early hours of the morning already and she had barely slept all night.

"I promise you, Rachel. I won't let anything happen to you. But you have to let me protect you. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Hudson. I can do that." She stared, shocked, as the ghost of a smile graced his lips. It made him look so different, that whisper of a smile. For a second she felt like she was looking at _her Finn_, and a smile appeared on her face as well. He might not have been able to remember everything, but she'd been his first real memory. She could feel the hope bubbling inside of her that he might be able to one day remember everything he'd lost.

But first they had to elude an international terrorist first.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So, how did we know each other?" Rachel turned around on the empty bus to stare at her amnesiac bodyguard fiancé, who was staring out of the window at the empty morning streets. He looked extremely uncomfortable in his civilian clothes, but he looked more and more like her Finn by the second.

"Listen, F-, I mean, Hudson." It was so hard calling him by his last name when he looked so much like her Finn it hurt. "You said that you wanted to focus on al-Charef. Is a trip down memory lane really conducive to the mission?"

He turned to stare at her quizzically and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure what 'conducive' means, but I'm tired of not knowing anything about myself. I-" He looked at her and shook his head. "Nevermind."

Placing a hand on his upper arm, she tugged on his sleeve until he looked at her again. The bus was almost empty, and they only had a few stops left to go anyway. "Tell me. You can tell me anything, Hudson." Staring into his eyes, she willed him to trust her.

Sighing deeply, she saw his face harden as he turned back around to stare out the window. "I feel. . .empty." Turning to look at her, she got lost in the turmoil that was swirling in his eyes. "I want Charef gone, but there are still some things I want to know. Did I have friends? Was I a good person? You're the only one who knows, and I need you to help me."

There were so many things she wanted to say in that moment. She wanted to fall into his arms and express her undying love for him. She wanted to kiss him and explain about their engagement and how in love they were. She wanted to call Carole, and let her talk to her son for the first time in months and months.

But instead, she yawned widely, the stress and fatigue of the night finally catching up with her.

"I'm sorry." She said sheepishly while she covered her mouth. "I haven't slept and we're almost there. Do you think we could talk about this more later? After we both get some sleep?"

Scoffing lightly, he stood up and led her to the back doors of the bus so they could get off at her stop. "Sleep? I can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep!" The soldier helped the tired civilian off of the bus and up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. Before she slipped her keys in the lock, she felt a surge of panic flow through her. How long had she dreamed of the day that Finn would come home and live with her in their apartment? The one she had picked out specifically for him. Would he like it?

Feeling irrational, she tried to shake those thoughts from her mind. Hudson was not her Finn, and he had no idea that this apartment had been chosen specifically for him. He was going to sleep on the couch for Christ-sakes; she had to stop thinking of him as her Finn. But as she opened the door and let him in, she couldn't help but hope that he liked the apartment.

She watched him as he walked around the small space, absorbing his surroundings. She started to babble to fill up the lapse in conversation. "I know it's really small, but I like the space. It's very New York-struggling-artist-y. I think it has a certain ambiance, don't you?" Twisting her fingers around in a circle anxiously, she waited for his response.

"I don't know how safe it is. There's no doorman, and you have a fire escape window outside your bedroom. Do you know how dangerous that could be?"

_Don't get offended, he has no idea you chose this apartment with him in mind. He can't remember all the planning you two did about having a fire escape ledge outside of the window so we could hang out there in the summer and grow our own flowers.__  
_  
But she couldn't stop the sting that spread through her at his dismissal of their apartment. Well, _her_ apartment. Placing her hands on her hips, she turned away from him.

"Well, I'm sorry it doesn't measure up to your high standards, _Specialist_. Good night." She started to walk to her bedroom when she felt a hand grasp her by the arm. Turning around to face him, she was stunned at the tender look in Hudson's eyes.

"I don't trust that fire escape window. I can't allow you to sleep in there alone." She was sure the shock was visible on her face, but she decided to voice her incredulity.

"You cannot be serious!"

"As a heart attack. I'll sleep on the floor, I don't care. But you are not sleeping in that room all by yourself."

She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream at him and slap him and tell him the truth about everything. But she was so tired, so overwhelmingly exhausted, that she no longer had the energy to argue.

"Fine."

He followed her into her bedroom, and she started to peel off the same clothes that she'd been wearing for almost 24 hours straight, not caring that Hudson was staring at her from across the room. At this time yesterday the only thing she had to worry about was making rent and selling back her textbooks. Now she had to deal with terrorists chasing after her and an amnesiac bodyguard who just happened to be engaged to her.

She slipped on her pj's and climbed into bed. Before closing her eyes, she noticed that Hudson was making himself a bed on the floor from her extra sheet and pillows. Should she ask him to sleep in her bed with her?

Was she really THAT much of a masochist?

The answer must have been yes, because before she could stop herself, she told him softly in the dark, "You don't have to sleep on the floor, Hudson. Come here." Her breath caught in her throat when she felt him move the covers out of the way and slip into bed with her. The heat from his body warmed her up instantly, and she moved over enough so he would have ample room to sleep. She tried to put as much distance between them, even though she just wanted to melt into his embrace.

"Good Night, Rachel." His soft voice reached out to her in the dark and she wanted nothing more than to touch him. To prove to herself that this was all real. Instead, she closed her eyes and started to slip into the blissful oblivion of slumber, where _her Finn_ was waiting for her with open arms.

"Good Night, Hudson."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

What will it take for Hudson to remember his old life?

Until Next Time . . . *sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	11. Memory Lane

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: So, I've decided that the fic has crossed it's halfway mark! There should be about 18-20 chapters, I think. I could literally drag this story out forever, but I am starting to plan out the ending now. I hope you're all enjoying it! On with the next chappy!

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Eleven: Memory Lane**

Hudson knew that he was dreaming when he walked out onto the empty stage created by his sub-conscious. He was always alert and aware of his surroundings, even in the detached haze of slumber. He knew that he'd fallen asleep next to Rachel, and now it seemed like her proximity was affecting him in his sleep.

The stage was empty besides a large black piano, and as he walked towards the middle of the stage, he knew that this all seemed way too familiar. This was definitely one of his old memories, and he wandered around the stage, soaking in the familiarity of it all.

That was when he'd noticed them.

Two teenagers were sitting on the corner of the stage, on a sheet bedecked with pillows. One of them was Rachel. He would be able to recognize her anywhere. She looked almost the same, except her face seemed a bit younger. He could see a picnic basket in-between them, and he walked up to them, feeling like he'd seen this all before. . .

"You're cool, Rachel." Hudson crouched down onto his haunches and stared at the boy in front of him. Reaching out, he couldn't touch the boy's face, but he _knew_.

This boy was _him_.

He sat and watched in awe as the memory played out before him. He was so young, so innocent. So unaware of what the future had in store for him. He looked a bit dorky and awkward, especially while talking to Rachel, but deep down he couldn't deny that this boy was him.

"Do you want a drink?" He watched as Rachel poured them both a "Virgin Cosmo" and almost laughed at how nervous his young self had seemed. This is what Rachel must have meant before, that they'd been close. Maybe they'd dated in high school! Staring at the scene in front of him with a bemused smile on his face, he watched as the young version of himself reached over to gently touch the lips of a young Rachel Berry.

"You can kiss me if you want to." Had Rachel always been so straightforward? She seemed like the kind of girl who knew what she wanted. He watched, transfixed, as the two young lovers were locked in each others stares, barely even blinking.

"I want to." _  
__  
__GO YOUNG ME!_ He wanted to jump up and do a dance. At least he hadn't been a complete dorkus when he was younger. Not moving an inch, he watched as the two kids laid down on the sheets, pressing their bodies close together. Mesmerized, he watched as their eyes closed and their lips met in the softest, purest kiss he'd ever witnessed. His heart started to ache painfully. They'd been close, all right. There was a history between him and Rachel that she was trying to keep from him.

While the scene played out before him, he could feel the memory of this day solidifying in his mind. He could fully remember this day now, along with the feelings of tension and awkwardness that radiated through the both of them on the empty stage. He also knew the reason why the young version of himself suddenly sat up abruptly, ruining the tender moment shared between the two. He didn't have to guess as to why he suddenly ran away, leaving Rachel alone and crying on stage.

Maybe he really _had_ been a complete dorkus.

The dream before him began to fade away. He could feel himself lifting out of the thick haze of sleep and back to reality, and a life without memories. At least he could remember this day, and this moment. It gave him something to hold on to. Rachel and him had a history, and he wouldn't be able to move on until he knew what it was.

He knew he was awake, but for the first time in his very short memory, he allowed himself to stay in bed, resting. Normally he was the first person up, getting ready for the next part of the mission. But now, the mission was sleeping next to him. He allowed himself to fantasize about the kiss from his dreams, and he could remember the way Rachel felt in his arms, and the taste of Virgin Cosmo on her lips. It was pure bliss, being able to remember that kiss. Even if he didn't remember anything else, he would always treasure that memory.

But now the only thought on his mind was kissing Rachel again. He couldn't deny the fact that the memory had ignited emotions inside of him that he didn't even think he was capable of feeling. For months, he'd focused on nothing but the mission, and al-Charef. Had he even allowed himself to think about women at all?

The answer was definitely no. And the fact that Rachel was stunningly beautiful and had made out with him long ago was not helping his resolve. But now that he remembered the feeling of her lips and the curves of her body, all he wanted was another chance to kiss her. To taste her. To touch her.  
_  
__Knock it off, Hudson, she is part of the mission! You can't just go around making out with the people you're supposed to be protecting!_ Repeating it in his head like a mantra, he finally opened his eyes to prepare himself for a new day. His first full day as Rachel's bodyguard. And the first thing he saw upon opening his eyes, was Rachel's peaceful, sleeping face.

He wanted to reach out and touch her, to prove that she was really here. What would he have done if he'd never found her? He'd only met her less than 24 hours ago, and already he felt like a different person. He was remembering things about his old life he never thought he'd get back, and it was all because of Rachel.

Yawning widely, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten so much sleep. Feeling rested and rejuvenated, he slipped out of bed quietly, trying not to wake up Rachel. He glanced at the clock to see that it was well past noon, and he figured he should let Rachel sleep for another hour or so.

He walked into the kitchen, seeing if there was a way for him to make coffee or tea. He felt so relaxed, walking around the tidy apartment. On second glance, it really was a nice space. He felt unusually comfortable here. Normally, it took him a while to adjust to new surroundings, but in Rachel's little apartment, he felt like he was home.

While searching through her cabinets for coffee, a noise outside of Rachel's apartment door put Hudson on full alert. Someone was outside in the hallway, and as he crept up to the door, he could hear people's voices on the other side. The calm, relaxing morning was ruined when he went on full soldier-mode, and stalked back to the bedroom to grab his bag with his weapons. Pulling out a handgun, he checked the clip to see if it was loaded and cocked the weapon. The noise startled Rachel out of her sleep.

"Hudson?" She called out groggily in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. "What's going on?"

His voice was low and severe, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "Stay right here, Rachel. Lock the door behind me and don't move an inch."

"What's happening?" She sounded scared, which made his hackles rise even more.

"Someone is trying to get into the apartment." He walked out of the bedroom and made his way for the door. Rachel peeked her head out of her bedroom to see what was happening down the hall. Hudson tiptoed to the door, just as the people behind it started to knock, loudly. Opening the door quickly, he put up his handgun and screamed at the strangers, "Hands up in the air!"

He was shocked when he was met with a loud, shrill, piercing scream.

"AHHHHHH!" He watched, stunned, as a young blond woman continued to scream bloody murder right in his face. The other person at her side, a young man with a mohawk, just stood there and stared as the blonde continued to scream. Putting the gun down, Hudson felt a little foolish. These people must be neighbors or something, he should have checked the peephole first.

Before he could apologize for pointing a loaded weapon at a civilian, Rachel ran up behind him and started to pull him away from the entrance and towards the hallway. She was calling out to the people in her foyer as she dragged him into the bedroom. "Wait right there, guys, I'll be right back!" She closed the door behind them and placed her hands on her hips in indignation. "What the hell do you think you're doing! Those people are friends!"

"Friends?" He repeated the word like it was foreign.

"Yes, Hudson, _friends_. People who like to spend time with other people, and enjoy their company."

Rubbing his neck shyly, he felt foolish for jumping to conclusions. He doubted al-Charef would knock on someones door anyway. "I'm sorry, Rachel. Sometimes, it's like the mission comes first, and the questions come later." He watched as she shook her head sadly.

"It's okay, Hudson. You actually know these people. I pulled you away mostly for their benefit. They looked pretty shocked to see you. I have a lot of explaining to do, so stay here, okay?" He could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest. He knew those people?

He had real, actual friends?

"Who are they? What are their names?"

He stared at Rachel as she sighed deeply. "Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray."

Suddenly, in a flash of light Hudson experienced another trip down memory lane. This time, instead of Rachel, he saw the same screaming blond woman from before, this time in a red Cheerleading uniform. Most of the memories were of her yelling at him, for some reason he couldn't remember. The other memories were filled with the mohawked man. They were playing sports and video games, driving around throwing eggs at people, punching each other in the face. . .

Wait, why would he be punching his friend in the face?

Before he could dwell on it, he returned to the present, with Rachel staring at him quizzically. He shook his head and tried his best to explain. "Sometimes when I hear people's names, I remember things easier. I think I know them, but the memories aren't solid." No, not as solid as the ones of Rachel. But he could remember these people. Barely. "Did I ever punch that guy in the face?"

All of a sudden, Rachel started to laugh. The brightness and clarity of it made his heart soar in his chest. She really had _the_ strangest affect on him!

"Yeah, you definitely punched him in the face once. Just stay here, okay. I'll talk to them, and then we can have some time alone before I go to work, okay?"

He could do nothing but nod as she closed the door behind her and walked into the living room to talk to her friends. Their friends. He pressed his ear against the door and he could faintly hear their conversation.

"Rachel." The guy, Noah, started to speak. "Tell me that man was not just Finn-fucking-Hudson."

"Sorry, Puck." The nickname triggered a whole mess of memories he could barely sift through, he was so focused on their conversation. "It's him. In the flesh."

"Does he remember anything?" He could only assume that was the blond, Quinn, talking. Wait, they'd known about his memory loss?

"No. Not a thing. He didn't recognize you two at all. He couldn't even recognize me. He still doesn't remember anything about his old life."

"How did you find him?" He listened as Rachel told them about her ordeal from last night and how they'd been reunited as civilian and bodyguard. He could hear the sympathy in Quinn's voice when she began to speak.

"Rachel, do you really think that this is a good idea? I mean, he was your-" Her what? _What was he?_

"SHH! Don't say _anything_, he can probably hear us." Dammit, he'd been so close! "Anyway, that man in there is _not_ Finn. Not anymore. He's a soldier, and my bodyguard for the time being." It felt like pins were sticking into his heart when he heard Rachel's adamant dismissal. Apparently, he was too different from the man he'd once been. "Besides, it's not like I asked for this, Quinn."

"Rachel, why don't you just tell him the truth?" Puck sounded overwhelmed. Not as overwhelmed as Hudson felt at the moment.

"Do you understand what he sacrificed in order to find this guy? He gave up his whole life to chase this man around the globe, I am not ruining it by rocking his world to the ground. That kind of stuff can wait. Baby steps, guys. We have to take baby steps with him. And don't forget to call him Hudson. Don't call him Finn." She could hear him walking to the bedroom door and he ran to the bed, trying to make it look like he hadn't been eavesdropping. When Rachel opened the door, she smiled at him sadly.

"Do you want to come out and meet them, Hudson?"

Nodding slowly, he stood up and followed Rachel into the living room. Her two guests stood up and waited for him to make the first move. He suddenly felt more awkward than he had ever felt in his short memory. What should he say? What should he do?

"Uh, hi." He raised his hand in a small wave and had never felt so foolish. He shot a desperate look to Rachel, and she walked forward and started to talk to fill in the gap in conversation.

"Hudson, Quinn and Puck would like to take us out to dinner soon, to catch up. Would you like that?"

"Yeah, that seems like a good idea." Quinn and Puck continued to blatantly stare at him, making him more uncomfortable than the forced conversation. He wanted to retreat back into the bedroom and hide, when Puck stepped forward and held out his hand.

"It's good to have you back, bro." Hudson couldn't contain the small smile that spread out over his face, as he grabbed the man's hand and shook it. He had a friend. A real, genuine friend.

"Good to be back, um, bro." He could see Quinn and Rachel share a knowing glance as he continued to shake his friend's hand. He couldn't believe his luck. Just yesterday he was so lost, so confused. Now, he was reunited with people who'd known him, who'd once cared about him.

It was more than he could have ever hoped for.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Quinn and Puck left shortly after their little reunion. They made plans for dinner in a few days, and Hudson was excited to learn more about his old friends. His memories of them were getting clearer and clearer by the minute, along with his memories of Rachel.

Rachel. With every second that passed he grew more and more intrigued by the enigma that was Rachel Berry. They had a history, he could feel it in his bones, and he knew that she was hiding _something_ from him. He had to find out what it was! It was starting to drive him crazy, especially while he was having dreams and flashbacks of them kissing.

She was changing for work in her bedroom, and when she joined him in the living room, he had to stifle a snort of disapproval. She was wearing far too little to go to work!

"Where is it that you work? A strip club?" He muttered dismissively.

She glared at him severely, placing her hands on her sides in anger. "Excuse me? Rachel Berry would never work at a strip club! I am a waitress and I get better tips when I wear short shorts and low tops. I have rent to pay." He could tell that he'd offended her. Her face grew redder and redder by the second and he could see her nostrils flaring in rage.

She had never looked so adorable.

"Whoa, whoa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to come out that way. I'm just-," He sighed deeply. How could he even explain what he was feeling about her right now? "-really overprotective of you right now. I don't want you to draw any extra attention to yourself, that's all."

"That's easy for you to say, _Specialist_," He winced at the way she spit out his title, like it was a curse, "You don't have rent to pay, all by yourself."

"Well, why pay rent on this apartment all by yourself? Why not move in with your, I mean, our friends?"

Turning away from him, he couldn't understand why her eyes suddenly filled with tears she wouldn't let fall. Sighing deeply, she looked deflated, like someone had let all the air out of her. "I picked out this apartment specifically for my fiance. I don't want to leave."

He almost gasped out loud when he felt his heart seizing in his chest, painfully. She was engaged? He should have known the ring was too fancy to be just an accessory, this girl was straight-up taken. The pangs in his heart continued to throb as he pushed forward with the conversation.

"Who is he? Do I know him?"

Laughing lightly without humor, she nodded her head. "Oh yeah, you knew him." She paused and stared at the ring on her finger, lovingly. "He was my hero."

Bitterness spread throughout him. A hero? He doubted this guy was as heroic as _he_ was. He'd saved a child from a falling building! He'd fought in a war! He tried not to let her comment affect him, but she had bruised his pride a little.

"Well, where is he, your fiancé? What happened to him?"

Her head shot up quickly, and she stared at him for a good minute before she spoke. "He went away and never came back." She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm starting to think he's never coming back."

He let her answers settle in his mind for a few minutes as she twirled her hair around her finger. She apparently was crazy about this guy, he could tell from the distant look in her eyes and the fondness in her tone. And he was probably someone they had both grown up with in Ohio, maybe even another one of his friends.

But he'd never come back. She was waiting for her fiancé, working hard, trying to make rent for an apartment he wasn't even here to share with her. Where did he go? What made him so special? He burned in indignation. This guy sounded like a real jerk!

"I'm sorry." He didn't know why he was apologizing for some dude who he couldn't remember, but she nodded to herself anyway.

"It's okay, Hudson. It's complicated."

"Well, what about us? Is that complicated?"

Smiling softly, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "You have no idea. Come on, Hudson. Let's get going." He stared down at his watch and realized she didn't have to be there for over an hour.

"Where are we going? You don't have to be at work until 5."

"I want to take you somewhere. You said you wanted to learn more about yourself, right?" He nodded furiously. "Well, then you'll just have to trust me."

Trust. He didn't trust anyone except for himself. But staring down at this petite woman, the one who amazed him more and more with each passing second, he knew deep down that she could be trusted. She was probably the only person he could trust, right now.

"Okay. Just let me get ready." She followed him to the bedroom where he pulled out his various weapons from his bag. Pulling up his right pants leg, he placed his handgun in the holster wrapped around his ankle. Making sure that it was secured, he slipped his pocket knife in his back pocket as well. When he turned around to face her, she was staring at her with wide eyes. "What is it?"

"Are you always going to have those _things_ on you? That can't be safe." She looked so scared, so completely terrified of his weapons, that he had to reassure her in some way. He pulled her close to him, placing a single calloused hand on her face, and started to caress her cheek with his thumb. She looked up at him with wide, searching eyes.

"Rachel, you're only safe as long as I have these weapons. Nothing is going to happen to you under my watch. I won't allow it. I swore to protect you, and that's what I'm here to do." He knew it was wrong; he knew it was a bad idea on so many levels, but he placed his lips on her forehead and kissed her softly, trying to ease all the tension from her with that one simple gesture. When he pulled away, her face was even more anguished than before. "I trust you, Rachel. And you have to trust me, okay?"

He watched, helpless, as two twin trails of tears fell slowly down her face. Sometimes he just couldn't understand this girl.

"Yes, Hudson, I trust you. Come on, lets go."

Tugging his arm, he followed her blindly as she led him out of her apartment building and into the busy streets, anxious for what she had planned for him. He could remember her conversation with Quinn and Puck from before. She'd said that she was going to take things slow with him in regards to his memory. Baby steps.

Maybe he could turn that around on her. Find some way to show her that he was just as good a man as her missing fiancé. It was pointless to deny that he had feelings for her, but as long as she held onto the hope that hero-boy would come back, he had no chance in hell with her. But if he could prove to her that he was just as much a man as her fiance, maybe she could move on.

With him.

_Baby steps, Hudson. Baby Steps. _

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Hudson has no clue that he's competing with himself!

Until next time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	12. Dead End Job

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: This story has become my life. I think about this story more than I think about the show itself. Hope you enjoy the two updates in a row.

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Twelve: Dead-End Job**

Walking down the hot, crowded streets of Manhattan, Rachel led Hudson down Lafayette Street, towards her job at The Eclectic Cafe. She was working the 5-12 shift tonight, and was hoping for mega-tips so she could make rent in a few days. Sighing deeply to herself, she thought idly that only people in New York had to worry about terrorists and rent at the same time.

A shrill beeping snapped her out of her daze, and she watched as Hudson pulled out a bulky cell phone-the kind with the walkie-talkie capabilities. She watched as he took orders and nodded to himself. When he got off the phone, he took her hand and started to lead her in the opposite direction, back to her apartment. His hand was warm, and she didn't want to pull away.

So she didn't.

"What's the matter? What happened?" Ever since she saw him pull out his gun this morning, she found herself on pins-and-needles, always needing to know what was going on. Was she in danger?

"Nothing is wrong, Rachel. We got a special package in the mail." He led her to the post office not too far away from her apartment, and he pulled out a key for a PO BOX. She watched as he found his mailbox on the walls lined with slots, and he opened it up to find a small package inside. "The tech guys are quick!" He said enthusiastically while opening the box. She watched, wide eyed, as he pulled out two pins. One of them was the pin she had bought him for Christmas, two years ago. The same Bass clef pin that she'd seen on his uniform last night. The other pin, was a matching Treble clef, the same size and color of Hudson's.

"These pins are now GPS trackers for you and I. Wear it at all times, Rachel. If we ever get separated or lost, I'll be able to find you with this. You have to promise me you'll never take it off, okay?"

"I promise." She picked the little pin up and fastened it to the front of her shirt. It seemed like a regular ordinary pin. She watched as he placed his on the front of his shirt as well. She stared at his pin blatantly, losing herself in the memories of Finn and that last holiday they'd spent together.  
_  
__"It's so you never forget the music in your heart. . ."_ Hadn't she said that, once?

"Are you okay?" Looking up into his eyes, she could feel the moisture trailing down her face. Hastily wiping away her tears, she cleared the emotion out of her throat.

"Oh, um, yeah. I'm fine." She shook her head and tried to be blasé. "I think something was in my eye. Do we still have time before five? I wanted to take you somewhere."

He checked his watch and nodded. "Yeah, we have time. Where are we going?"

She smiled softly to herself, knowing that this should be interesting. "Did you ever wonder why you had a bass clef pin at all?"

Shaking his head, he rubbed the back of his neck shamefully. "No, I couldn't remember." They headed out of the Post Office and back down Lafayette, towards the cafe.

"Well, you, Hudson, _loved_ music."

"I did?" He sounded so innocent, so lost. It warmed her heart then broke it all over again.

"It was how we met. You and I were the captains of the glee club." She continued to walk down the street, not knowing that Hudson had stopped walking altogether. When she turned around, his face was pinched together, almost as if he was in pain, and it took some time for him to snap out of his momentary daze. He'd acted like this before. He must be remembering things!

When he finally lifted up his head, the first thing that came out of his mouth was, "New Directions."

She gasped audibly, stepping forward and forcing him to make eye contact with her. "What did you just say?"

He looked up at her with wide, searching eyes and smiled the first true genuine smile she had seen from him. "New Directions was the name of our glee club. Our teacher was," He paused, searching his brain for the memory, "Mr. Schuester."

She almost screamed out loud. He was really starting to remember things! Sure, it was just the name of their club and advisor, but he'd remembered it all on his own. Her theory was working. BABY STEPS!

"Hudson, that's great! Do you remember anything else?" They started to walk again, a bit of energy in their steps.

"Not really, but I think Quinn and Puck were in the club with us too, am I right?"

"Yes! You're totally right." She hadn't felt this happy in, well, she couldn't remember when she'd been this happy! She was seeing more and more of Finn shining through by the second. "And I think you're going to love this place." She led him into a music store, not too far away from the Eclectic Cafe. Pulling him by the hand, she led them into the back of the store with the percussion instruments.

"Tada!" She waved her arms in a grand gesture towards the complete drum kit in the far corner of the store. Hudson shot her a quizzical look.

"Um, Rachel?"

"You were a drummer. You sang in glee club, sure, but before I even knew you, you were playing drums like a rock star. I think it's all still there, waiting for you to tap into it. Give it a try." He looked at the drums hesitantly, and it took him a full minute before he walked up to the drum kit and sat down on the stool. He picked up a spare set of drumsticks that were resting on a shelf by the drums he held one in each hand.

"I don't know about this, Rachel. I'm not remembering anything." She knew that she shouldn't be pushing him, but dammit, she wanted _some_ part of her Finn back, even if it was just the drummer!

"Go for it, Hudson. I know you can do it." He hesitated a bit more, before he suddenly slammed the sticks down on the snare.

And he was off.

She had always loved watching Finn play the drums. He was always so into it, so in tune with the music and the beat. Watching him now was just as hypnotizing as when they were teenagers; practicing after school, lounging in his garage with Puck and Artie. She could see a glowing smile on his face, and he'd never looked more like Finn. He made eye contact with her, and suddenly his face morphed into an expression so heartbreakingly familiar, she almost turned away.

He was giving her his _drumface_.

Sure, he had no idea that this look made her particularly weak in the knees and reverted her back to a teenage school girl, but Rachel still found herself lost in his expression. He looked so intense, so much like _her Finn_, that it made her heart hurt. With a panic, she realized that she was starting to blur the lines in-between the two. Sure he couldn't remember their history, but he was still Finn, right? What was the difference?  
_  
__The difference was that you and Finn never had to run from international terrorists! He is your bodyguard now, he's no longer your high school boyfriend. This isn't a game.__  
_  
But she couldn't deny that she was barely able to resist him. When he'd kissed her forehead before, all she wanted to do was look up and kiss his lips instead. She wanted to remember what it felt like to be in his arms. To be loved by a man.

Even if the man couldn't remember her.

Checking her watch, she knew she had to be at work soon. She waved to Hudson to get his attention and he reluctantly stopped playing. When he stood up from the drum kit, he walked right up to Rachel and pulled her into a crushing hug.

_Fuck it! _She screamed at herself, and wrapped her arms around his broad and muscular waist. Inhaling deeply, she sighed blissfully. He still smelled exactly the same.

"Thank you, Rachel. _Thank you._" He continued to hold her and she could feel the emotion clogging her voice, making her throat burn and rasp as hot tears filled her eyes. "That was amazing! I've never felt so," He pulled away from her, staring down into her face intensely, "alive." She watched as his eyes gazed lower until he was staring at her lips. He started to lean in closer to her, invading her personal space until she could feel his soft breath on her face. She wanted to close the distance between them, so badly. . .

Softly, slowly, he placed his lips upon hers in a kiss that set her blood ablaze. Their lips were barely caressing, but she felt like every nerve of her body was firing off electrical shocks. She melted into his embrace, and she heard a low moan escape his lips. Pressing her mouth against his, their lips moved together in a dance that was so achingly familiar, she had to pull away. When she made eye contact with him, seeing the passion burning in his eyes, she knew that this had been a bad idea.

"We've kissed before." It was a statement, and not a question.

"Yes." There was no point in lying.

"I heard you talking to Quinn and Puck about me." He let go of her then, and took a few steps back. "About my memory, and how you want to take it slow." Searching her eyes, his body became tense again, not as relaxed as he'd been on the drums. "You'll tell me one day, right?"

"Yes, Hudson. I swear that I'll tell you. It's just that, right now, we don't know what's going to happen with al-Charef, and I think it would be better for you to focus on important things like the mission before you take on a lifetime full of memories. But we _can_ take it slow! Do things like we did today. Small things." His face fell slightly. "Do you understand?"

He shook his head slowly, sadly. "I get it." He looked around the music store and shrugged. "C'mon. You're going to be late for work."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Rachel, seventeen is up!" Grabbing the plates from the hot-line and balancing them expertly on her tray, Rachel maneuvered around the crowded cafe to place her order down.

"OK, that's one cherry protein shake with extra flaxseed oil, one wheat-grass smoothie with with soy milk and two vegan burritos!" Placing the order down at the table, she loved working at an all-vegan cafe. It made snacking on breaks so easy for her!

The Eclectic Cafe wasn't the largest place in the world, but it was always full of young hipsters and college kids from all around the city, searching for healthy food. She pretty much knew the clientèle, and she made decent money here on a given night. Tonight though, the place was so crowded she could barely move, and she was happy with the tips she'd made, even though she didn't have to close for another two hours.

She walked to the back corner, where her bodyguard was nursing his fifth cup of chamomile tea, and re-reading the _Village Voice_ for the third time. "Can I get you anything, Specialist?" They had this routine down. Every half an hour she came over and refilled his tea, and he gave her the run down on security.

"Another tea please, and I would like to maybe try a vegan brownie." He looked up at her quizzically. "What's _in_ a vegan brownie?"

"Um, I think we use soy in our brownies as the protein. They're good." She pulled out a magazine she'd been keeping in her apron. "And one of my customers left this here, you can put that _Village Voice_ down." She placed a "Time-Out New York" in front of him and he started to flip through the pages. "Find us something to do for tomorrow, maybe. I don't have work, so we can go do something fun. Maybe something musical. Check it out." She watched, amused, as he started to read through the different events and concerts. She walked off to get him his brownie and tea, when her manager told her that she had another customer sitting in her section. She gave Hudson's order to the line cook, and made her way over to the table in the back by the kitchens.

"Welcome to the Eclectic Cafe, my name is Rachel. What can I get for you tonight?" The menu obscured her customers face, but the person let the menu drop down slowly, until she was making full eye contact with him.

She froze in her skin, terror and fear spreading through her like a blazing wildfire.

She was staring into the eyes of Mouad Mohammed al-Charef.

"I would like for you to stay silent. Make no move." His accent was so thick she could barely understand him. His English wasn't so great either.

"W-What do you want from me?" Adrenaline pumped through her veins and all of her instincts were telling her to run for her life. But her body was frozen still.

"I want you to go into the kitchen and not make a sound. Tell anyone, and this place goes to hell." He lifted up his hand to show her a black remote, hidden in his sleeve. He was planning on blowing this place up!

"Okay. I'll go, I'll go." She backed away from him while he stood up and grabbed her by the arm. She desperately looked at Hudson from across the cafe, an his head was still buried in the _Time-Out New York._ He didn't see as Charef pulled her into the kitchen, and out the back doors into the alley.

He pushed her against the hard brick siding of the cafe, and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. He grabbed her by the arms, and pushed against her so she was trapped. Where was Hudson!

"You are very easy girl to find!" He laughed in her face. "It was almost too easy!"

"What do you want?" She winced as his hold on her arms tightened.

"You." His voice was low as he leaned into her even more. "But, I don't know whether I want you dead or alive yet." He pulled out a long knife, the blade glowing in the dim alley. She'd never been more scared in her life. "You have stolen my Sabwa's face." He placed the sharp blade of the knife against the sensitive skin under her ear, by her throat. Her breathing became short and shallow as the panic bubbled under her skin. "Maybe I should cut it off." The blade pressed into her skin as she cried out softly. She watched, bewildered, as his gaze softened and the knife started to pull away from her neck.

He'd hesitated. . .maybe she looked _too_ much like Sabwa. . .

All of a sudden, the back doors to the cafe burst open, and Hudson had his handgun raised at full alert. "Don't move! Drop your weapon!" His eyes moved from her to Charef and back, absorbing the scene in front of him. Charef pulled her off of the wall and held her in front of him as a shield, his knife returning to the spot under her throat.

"She is mine." He started to back up with her, walking towards the street and out of the alleyway. Hudson's steps coordinated with his, as he tried to inch closer to Charef. She stared at Hudson, eyes wide with fear, watching as he pointed the gun straight at her. Well, at Charef, but the gun was still in her face. She felt the blade pressing into her skin, and she could feel the sharpness of it. Suddenly, Charef missed a step backwards, causing him to stumble and the knife to slip. She could feel it slicing into her skin, and a sharp cry escaped her lips. Charef immediately pushed her away from him and into Hudson's willing arms. Before Hudson could balance both the girl and the gun, he had run off into the night.

"FUCK!" Hudson screamed as he reached for his cell phone. "I need all units on Lafayette Street heading west towards Chinatown, Charef is on the loose. I need a full bomb squad at the Eclectic Cafe on Lafayette and Bowery."

She was in Hudson's arms, which was a good thing because she didn't know if she could even balance her own weight yet. Every inch of her body was shaking uncontrollably, and she couldn't stop the buzzing of adrenaline throughout her system. She could feel something dripping down her neck, and in complete horror, she stared at the blood all over her hands.

That's when she lost it. Rachel Berry could only take so much.

She started to cry, her body seizing with the heaving sobs that escaped her lips. Hudson got off the phone and wrapped both arms around her, supporting her weight.

"Rachel? You're bleeding!" He moved to pull away from her, but she held onto his shirt even tighter, pulling him back into the embrace.

"No, please, don't leave me!" Rubbing her back in calming circles, she started to cry even more. That was exactly how he'd comforted her in the past. She could see her blood dripping onto his shirt, but she felt no pain. The cut was shallow, but it was long, trailing from her ear to her chin.

"Don't worry, Rachel. I'm not going anywhere."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The cafe was secure; apparently Charef was carrying around a fake detonator, seeing as the bomb squad found nothing in the cafe or in it's vicinity. Hudson cleaned out her wound and it eventually stopped bleeding. She had a nasty cut on her face now, though, and it stung when her tears fell into it.

They had been escorted back to her apartment, and the entire time she could only see Charef's eyes in front of hers. They sat next to each other on the couch, and she saw Hudson staring at her worriedly from the corner of her eyes. As much as she just wanted to forget about it all, she could still feel the sharp blade against her face. She could hear his voice in her mind, his cackling laugh sending chills down her spine. If Hudson hadn't been there. . .

"Hudson, can I ask you something?"

His head whipped around quickly, searching her face to see if she was okay. She hadn't really spoken all that much since the alley, and she knew that must have put him on edge. All she'd needed was some time to decompress, and now she was back to normal, and filled with questions.

"Of course, Rachel, anything." He'd been so worried about her, and she could still hear the desperation in his tone.

"If you're trying to hide me from Charef, why am I still living in my old apartment and going to work? Shouldn't I be hiding away somewhere?" She stared as his face began to fall, and he looked away from her guiltily. Wait a second. . .Charef had said that she'd been too easy to find. . .

"Am I _BAIT_?" She shot off of the couch and watched as his face morphed into a mask of shock. "You told me I could trust you!"

"You can!" He shot off of the couch and tried to reach out for her, but she backed up away from him and into her kitchen. "You're not bait, Rachel. But we thought it would be better to have him come to us. We don't know where he's hiding anymore."

"But what if he comes after me again? What if he finds out where I live and blows up the entire apartment building?"

He placed his hands up in a calming matter, but Rachel felt anything but calm. "We have reason to believe that he wants to keep you alive. You saw him today; he could have hurt you but he didn't."

"I don't feel safe anymore, Hudson. I really don't."

"Rachel, listen to me." He walked forward until the two of them were pressed up against her fridge. "You're the only thing I have left in this whole fucked-up world." His hand reached up to gently graze the slice on her face. "It's bad enough he got this close to you, I won't let that happen again. You _are_ safe with me." He paused and looked pensive for a moment. "What do you go to school for? Why are you in New York?"

His body was still dangerously close to hers, and his proximity was intoxicating, but she pushed forward with the conversation. "Music. It was always my dream to be on Broadway."

"And you're waitressing instead of auditioning, why?"

She started to get agitated. Hadn't they already discussed this? "Because I have rent to pay, and auditions don't pay the bills."

"Well, I think you should start auditioning again, and quit the cafe." She burned with anger, her pride feeling bruised.

"Did you hear what I just said-"

"I'll help you with your rent." Her mouth snapped shut while she was still mid-sentence and she stared at him unabashedly.

"What?"

"I get paid a salary. I mighty fine salary if I do say so. And since I'm staying here for the time being, I should do the honorable thing and pay rent." She was frozen in shock, what should she even say? "It's not fair to you that you're wasting your time and talents on a job like this. Besides, I don't want you to work there anymore anyways, it's not safe."

"I don't know what to say."

Shrugging his shoulders, he shot her a crooked smile that stopped her heart from beating in her chest. That smile was so achingly familiar, she just stood there and let it crumble all of her defenses.

"Just say yes, Rachel." He leaned his forehead against hers. "You need someone to help you, and I want to be that person. Let me be that person."

Looking up into his eyes, into his tender expression, she no longer knew the difference between Finn and Hudson. She was so tired, so overwhelmed with the events of the past 24 hours, that she was surprised she still knew which way was up.

"Okay." She knew this was wrong. Hudson was filling in the roles that Finn had left in his wake. But she didn't care anymore. She wanted some part of him back, even if she was pretending. It was better than nothing. "You can pay rent and I'll start auditioning tomorrow."

She watched as a slow smile crept onto his face, morphing him into the Finn she'd known and loved. For the second time that day, she could feel her walls crumbling down around her, as he reached over and placed another breathtaking kiss on her lips.

"Come on Rach, let's go to bed." Her heart shattered into a million pieces all over again as his old nickname for her spilled out of his lips.

"You go ahead, Ill be there in a minute." He nodded and went into her bedroom, oblivious to her pain. She crawled back onto the couch and started to sob. That one word, that one name was enough to break the already tenuous hold she had on her sanity that night. She would have gone to bed with him, and she wouldn't have been able to control what had happened. Was this considered cheating? Was this somehow all ethically wrong?

She sobbed in desperation, turning on the TV to block out the sounds of her cries. Her mind was playing tricks on her, her heart was playing tricks on her, and she could no longer distinguish the lines between her Finn and Hudson.

She cried herself to sleep on the sofa, and woke up the next morning in her bed. The fact that Hudson had carried her inside to her bed was the driving force that had made up her mind.

Finn wasn't going to come back.

Hudson was now her future.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

Charef is still on the loose and Rachel is falling for Hudson! When will he get his memories back?

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	13. Building Trust

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: THIS CHAPTER TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE. See my writer's block rant on twitter for more details ;)

And YES, the bar I talk about in this next scene is a real bar, that I frequent in Brooklyn with my friends. IT IS AMAZING and just as cool as it sounds.  
**  
****Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Thirteen: Building Trust**

Hudson wondered if he would spend every night like this, walking through the detached haze of dreaming while his memory returned scene by scene. Once again he found himself in a memory of his past, watching on the sidelines as a bystander, unable to interact with his younger self.

This time, he was in the hallway of a high school with Rachel. He looked bored, annoyed even. So unlike the memory of the two of them from the night before. She had pulled him aside to tell him something. She looked enthusiastic and happy, until the younger version of himself opened up his big, dumb, mouth.

"I don't think I want to be your boyfriend."

_WHAT?_ He wanted to run up to the younger version of himself and punch him square in the face. What the fuck had he been thinking? They'd actually dated? And he'd allowed her to slip through his fingers?

He watched in horror as Rachel gave him a proper chewing out before stomping off in tears. He sure had a bad habit of making Rachel cry. In fact, he'd done nothing but make her cry in both his dreams and in reality. No wonder she wasn't opening up to him! She had no reason to trust him whatsoever. Especially after the fiasco in the cafe. . .

He could feel himself waking up, and he knew in his heart that he and Rachel had dated, and he'd severely messed it up. Was that what she'd meant by their history? Did she still hold a grudge after so long?

Opening his eyes, he saw Rachel curled under the blankets next to him, trying to rest after her exhausting night. He could see the nasty slice on her face from his position in bed and he burned in shame. He should have been paying more attention! He'd fucked up last night, and now she barely felt safe with him anymore.

He had to fix that. It was his job to make her feel safe, and she'd told him herself that she no longer felt secure. He had to find some way to build up her trust again. It was eating him up inside.

At least she wasn't returning to the cafe. That job pretty much made her a walking target: she was on a payroll which made her easier to track, and she was always working the same shifts. Some jobs were predictable like that, and they couldn't afford to be predictable now. That was the main reason why he was so grateful that she would start the auditioning process soon. While auditioning, she'll be hopping from place to place, making it harder to track or predict her movements. Also, the auditions will distract her, while his team searches for Charef behind the scenes. But he couldn't risk Rachel anymore, not after what had happened last night. From this moment on, Rachel's safety was priority number one, and Charef barely mattered anymore.

Slipping out of bed, he went into the kitchen to make them a pot of coffee. He had no idea what the auditioning process entailed, but he was sure Rachel would probably need the caffeine. While the pot was brewing, he saw Rachel come out of her bedroom, and sit at the small table in her kitchen.

"Good morning, Rachel. Coffee?"

"Yes, please." She looked away from him as he placed the cup down on the table. She made no move to add milk or sugar even though he placed the two items right in front of her. "Hudson, we need to talk."

For some reason, those five words put him on edge. He sat down across from her, mixing his own cup of coffee while hers lay untouched. "Sure, what about?"

He watched as she begun to nibble her lower lip nervously, refusing to make eye contact with him. "You and Me."

"I knew I shouldn't have kissed you yesterday, it was over the line." He should have known he'd been moving too fast, he'd basically kissed her three times yesterday, and they hadn't been reunited a whole 48 hours yet!

"Well, yes, and no. It's a lot of things, and it's hard to explain." A few seconds passed before she gathered her thoughts, and she took a deep breath before finally making eye contact with him. "It's about my fiancé."

Automatically, he felt a surge of jealousy towards the man who had claimed Rachel's heart; the man who had left her with nothing but a ring and her memories. "What about him?" Turning away from her, he couldn't suppress the bitterness in his tone.

"It's just that," She rubbed the bridge of her nose, overwhelmed, "You and him are a lot alike." His head snapped up again.

"How alike?"

"_A lot_ alike." She left it at that. "And now that you're here, I just feel so. . . confused. Do you understand?"

"Not really." He couldn't understand why she was holding onto someone who wasn't coming back. Someone who had left her high and dry.

"Listen, a lot has happened to me in the past 48 hours. My world has basically been flipped upside down and now I have to start auditioning again and worry about being kidnapped or killed. . . "

"You don't have to worry about Charef, that's what I'm here for."

"Well then, what about last night, Hudson?" She pointed to her face. "I don't feel _safe_ anymore! How do I know I can still trust you?" When his head fell dejectedly, she sighed deeply. "Look, I _want_ to trust you, but I just need some time. To readjust and get used to you being around."

"Time?" He thought about it. Things _had_ been moving really fast, but he couldn't help but let his memories control his actions. It just felt _right_, being close to her. But he could give her what she needed. She deserved that much. He reached across the table and took her hand in his. She looked like she wanted to pull away, but he squeezed her hand softly and she stilled. Nodding, he cleared his throat. "That's fine, I know things have been a bit crazy," Crazy was one hell of an understatement. "But I've been _remembering_ things, Rachel. The more time I spend with you, the more I remember." Chocolate eyes, wide as saucers, stared at him from across the table as he started to explain his dreams. "The past two nights, all I've dreamed of was you and me, back in high school. We dated and I broke up with you. Biggest mistake ever." He scoffed lightly as her mouth dropped open in shock. "And I know I fucked up last night and didn't protect you like I should have, but from now on, you're safety is my number one priority. New York could blow up and I couldn't care less, it's all about you."

"Hudson. . . "

"No, Rachel, listen. I want to prove to you that I am that same guy you once fell for in high school. The more I remember, the more _normal_ I feel. Give me another chance. I want you to trust me again, and we have all the time in the world."

Nodding her head slowly, he could tell there were tears in her eyes. He_ really_ had to work on not making her cry.

"Okay."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next month passed by like a blur for Hudson and Rachel. She had started auditioning immediately, landing a role in the Shakespeare in the Park's production of Hamlet, as Ophelia. He got to watch her kill herself every afternoon. She loved it, along the attention she was getting from her peers in the industry. In order to protect her, he made her change her stage name to Barbie Berry, and armed soldiers in plain clothes were scattered around the audience in case Charef tried something funny at the park. But so far, her security was airtight. He'd never seen her happier, which in turn, made him happy.

Who was he kidding, it made him ecstatic.

He was remembering things about his old life faster than ever before. One of the main things he remembered about Rachel was her will to succeed and make it to Broadway. He was surprised she'd put it on the back-burner for this long. She was a natural, and he found himself in awe of her talent on a daily basis.

Things between them were. . .complicated. She said she'd needed time, and that's exactly what he was giving her. Plenty of time and space to be on her own. He watched her like a hawk and followed her every move; always at a distance, but never further than arm's length. Her comfort and safety were his priorities, and he wanted her to be relaxed around him. She was finally starting to drop her guard, and open up to him more. It boosted his pride to know that she finally trusted him again. He hadn't seen or heard anything from Charef since the day at the cafe, and Rachel was starting to feel safer.

But things between them were _awkward_, to say the least. Sometimes they smiled and laughed together over something stupid they watched on TV, other times she wouldn't even look at him. He was starting to wonder if maybe she was bipolar. They still slept in the same bed every night, on separate sides; barely moving and not saying a word. Sometimes he fell asleep almost buzzing in pent up energy from sleeping so close to her. All he wanted to do was reach out and pull her into his arms. She was so close to him, yet it felt like the bed stretched out for miles.

But he would give her the space and time she needed. This was his chance to prove to her that he was different, better. Better than the man who had left her, all alone. He still caught her crying over him sometimes, when she thought he was watching TV or in the shower; he could hear her sobbing in her bedroom. But the worst was when he would catch her staring at her ring, lovingly. Like it was encrusted with diamonds and jewels, and not just a silly plain band scribbled with words he couldn't even see.

It made him sick. He wanted to rip that ring off and flush it down the toilet.

But then there were the times when she was actually relaxed and open with him. They were rare, but they were happening more and more often. It was like he was slowly inching his way into her heart, and he knew he was making progress. Every smile, every laugh that escaped her lips, made him feel more and more like, well, himself.

If that made _any_ sense.

"So, what was he like?" Puck looked at him from the corner of his eye from the bar while Quinn and Rachel put money in the change machine. The four friends had been hanging out a lot lately, and Quinn and Puck dragged them out to Brooklyn to a bar called Barcade. It was a bar AND and an old-school arcade, each game a quarter a piece. They had Pac-Man, Frogger, Donkey Kong. . .

They were all quite fond of Barcade.

Hudson was on full alert, keeping his eyes on Rachel and Quinn as they got more quarters from the change machine and proceeded to play Ms. Pac-Man. Rachel still wasn't 21 yet, but she enjoyed the video games while Puck and Hudson nursed their beers.

"Who, dude?"

"Rachel's fiancé. What was he like?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew he probably sounded pathetic.

Puck's glass stopped right at his lips and he placed the mug down on the bar, slowly. "I don't know man, I shouldn't really be talking to you about this, Rachel's gonna get pissed."

"I think I'm in love with her." He knew it was the truth the moment it escaped his lips. It burned in every fiber of his being.

He _loved_ her.

Puck's eyebrows shot up in shock. "Holy Shit."

"I know."

"No, man, you don't know. All of this is just so, _fucked up_." He ran a hand over his mohawk in exasperation. Hudson's eyes never left Rachel's form as she jumped up and down, excited that she'd ate the dot that made all the monsters blue and edible. "Listen, she's never gonna get over him. It's a fact of life."

His fists clenched together as he faced the truth of Puck's statements. He was right. No matter what he did or said to Rachel, it wasn't going to change the fact that she was still waiting for her fiance to come home. Should he just give up, and stand idle while the girl he loved suffered over a missing man?

He knew what the answer was, deep, deep down.

He didn't give up that easily.

Apparently Rachel had lost, because she walked up to the bar with a dejected look on her face, and sat next to Hudson. Puck took his beer and joined Quinn by the games. "I suck at video games." He nudged her playfully with his elbow.

"Pac-Man is like an art. It takes years to perfect it." She smiled softly at him, and he couldn't help but shoot her a smile in return. He almost gasped in shock when she rested her head on his shoulder, leaning on him and closing her eyes.

"I'm tired." Her voice was soft in the loud bar, but he could still hear her breathy tone.

"Did you drink anything?" She wasn't 21, but sometimes Quinn let her take sips from her drinks.

"No, not tonight. I have two shows tomorrow and I'm just really sleepy." She lifted up her head and stared into his eyes. He found himself lost in her soft expression. "Let's go home."

Breath catching in his throat, she had him locked in her gaze, unable to function properly. Had she any idea, the effect she had on him at all?

"Okay." They said their goodbyes to Quinn and Puck and headed for the train back into the city. She looped her arm around his, leaning against him while they were walking down the empty streets of Brooklyn. He was almost bursting with pride. Any bystander on the street would have assumed that they were a couple, he was holding her so close to him. On the subway she relaxed into his embrace completely, and he stroked her hair softly as he held her during their transit back into Manhattan.

It was almost pure bliss.

"I'm falling asleep! Do something to keep me awake!" She poked him playfully in his side and an actual laugh escaped his lips. He _never_ laughed. It almost sounded foreign.

"Like what?"

"Anything, or else you're carrying my butt back to the apartment." She said groggily with her eyes closed.

"I'd do it, you know." One eyelid lifted sleepily.

"I know you would, Hudson. You're a sweet guy." He wanted to shout out loud. _She thinks I'm sweet!_ He was so excited, he almost didn't hear her low whisper. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For protecting me. I've never said thank you before, and I want you to know that I appreciate what you're doing." His arms pulled her closer to him, and he could feel her burying herself in his embrace. He'd never loved her more than in that moment. It burned inside of him fiercely, almost scaring him with it's intensity.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Rachel. You're too important. You mean too much to me." She lifted up her head and stared into his eyes, looking more awake now than she did a minute ago. He held her face in his hand, stroking the long sliver of a scar with his thumb, gently. "I _love_ you."

She sure as hell looked awake now. Wide eyes stared up at him, falling from his eyes to his lips and back. He pulled her as close to him as would allow, and he was grateful that the train was nearly empty so no one could be witness to his confession.

"Hudson. . ." She sounded like she was pitying him, and the last thing he wanted was her pity. He wanted her _love_. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

"Do you still not trust me? I've been trying _so_ hard. . ." She placed a finger over his lips to quiet him.

"It's not that, I _do_ trust you. I really do." She looked away from him and he knew the real reason behind her hesitance.

"It's about _him_, isn't it?" He didn't have to say the dreaded f-word, she knew what he was talking about.

"Yes." At least she had the decency to look him in the eyes while she was shattering his heart. Puck had been right. She was never going to get over him.

He nodded slowly, accepting that he had no place in her heart. "I get it. He's always going to be number one, and I'll never have a chance, will I?"

"Hudson, please, it's more complicated than that!" She was wide awake now, and he could see that she was starting to get flustered. She begged with her eyes for him to understand. "I don't know if he's ever going to come back, but I have to hold on to _something_."

"I see it, you know." He had to choke through the emotion in his throat. "Sometimes you look at me, and I think you want to see him, your fiancé. But I'm _not_ him, Rachel. I don't think I can ever be as great as your fiance was, but I want to try. Give me a chance."

The train stopped at their station and they left the train without another word. She held onto his arm again on the street, this time not leaning against him anymore. But she didn't let go of his arm. At least he had that much.

Their trek back to the apartment was in complete silence. He kept stealing glances of her worried face, scrunched up in confusion. He wished that she would just say something, instead of letting his confession hang in the air. When they entered the apartment, she went straight for the bedroom. He sighed deeply as he watched her go, wishing he could comfort her, wishing he could make her see that he deserved a chance.

He walked into the bedroom a few minutes after her and stopped dead in his tracks in front of the bed.

She was naked with the sheets pulled around her, sitting upright in bed. Her gaze was intense and burning, scalding him with it's heat. He just stared at the vision of beauty in front of him, not able to believe his eyes. She stared to crawl forward, letting the sheets slip away, revealing her creamy skin and delicate curves.

"You were right, Hudson." She pulled him close to her by the shirt until her breasts were pressing against his chest. "I would look at you and all I wanted to see was my fiancé. After all this time I thought he would have come back to me, but I think It's time for me to accept that it's not going to happen." She took a deep breath and let a slow smile grace her flawless features. "It's time for me to accept what's in front of me and not dwell on the past anymore." She inched away from him then, sliding herself back against the pillows. She beckoned to him with her index finger seductively, and he felt all control slip away. "Come here, Specialist."

He was in a trance almost, as he slipped his clothes off in front of her. Her eyes never left his body as he stared at her in bed, naked and willing and waiting for him. He couldn't believe this was happening, but he didn't question it; he just joined her on the bed, almost shaking in anticipation. He crawled over to her naked body, kissing the skin on her midriff all the way to the swell of her breasts. He heard her low moan of pleasure and he felt his body grow hard and taut with need. How long had he been dreaming of this? She was even more beautiful and precious while naked and writhing underneath him. He kissed her body until he reached the scar on her face, and gently laid his lips upon her jaw.

"This never should have happened to you. Charef is a dead man when we finally catch him."

"You'll protect me, right?" Worried eyes met his as she placed a hand on his face in a soft caress. "I'll be safe?"

He pulled away from her, sitting up on his knees, lifting her into his arms, and pressing their naked bodies close together. She wrapped her legs around his body and he could feel her grinding against him, making stars flash before his eyes. Their eyes met and he had never seen her look so desperate. "As long as I'm here, Rachel, nothing will happen to you. I promise that I'll protect you with my life."

"No, don't say that!" He could feel her trying to pull away from him, but he couldn't allow her to get away. "I can't lose you again. I just _can't_." Before he could contemplate the meaning of "again," she placed her lips on his in a kiss that melted his heart and set his body on fire. Her lips were so soft, her mouth so sweet. He lost himself in the bliss of her kiss and the comment was buried in the chaos of his mind.

"Rachel. . ." He moaned into her mouth and he felt all control slipping away. Their bodies were still mashed together, and he laid her down softly onto the bed. "You're sure about this, right?"

She stared into his eyes and he almost saw it again; the doubt, the uncertainty. But it melted away and a tender look graced her features. "I'm sure, Hudson." She took one of his hands in hers and placed it over her naked breast. "Touch me."

That was all the invitation he'd needed. Falling into her embrace, he lost himself in her whispers and sighs of pleasure. He touched her in places he'd only ever dreamed of, and treated her body like a temple, sacred and precious.

Before slipping himself inside of her, he held her close to him, tenderly stroking her face.

"I love you, Rachel." She didn't return the sentiment, which was fine with him, he didn't want to push her. But he was so absorbed in their love-making, so distracted by the feel of her body and the love in his heart, he didn't even notice that when she came, she screamed out the name "Finn."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Morning came, and Hudson woke up without experiencing one of his trademark dreams. He must have been truly exhausted last night.

With good reason. He was still in awe that he and Rachel had slept together the night before. She was nestled right next to his body, her soft breath tickling his chest. He grinned at the memory. It was amazing, epic, mind-blowing. . .

He was too tired to think up more adjectives. He was about to turn around and fall back asleep when he heard his cell phone ringing. Slipping out of bed silently, he took his phone into the living room, trying not to wake up Rachel.

"Hudson."

He was at full attention when he heard his Sergeant's voice. "Specialist, we need the girl."

It was like a bucket of ice water fell over his head. "Excuse me?"

"We have reason to believe that Charef has started planning an attack on the city, and it's high time we captured the fucker and ended it all." He stood in horror as the sergeant explained the details of the plan. Panic spread through his body like poison.

"With all due respect sir, I don't think this is a good idea." She had just started to trust him again, she was never going to go for this!

"Specialist, you have 48 hours to convince the civilian to participate in the mission or else I'll have to assign her with a different bodyguard. One who can follow orders." Steeling himself, he nodded grimly.

"Yes, sir. Of course. I'll get back to you."

Letting the cell phone drop from his ear, he walked towards the bedroom where Rachel was still fast asleep. Standing in the doorway, he knew this wasn't going to end well. She had just started to trust him again, and now his commanding officer was telling him that he had to talk her into this debacle of a mission.

He could never catch a break.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

They slept together! And what's this new mission all about?

Until Next Time. . .*sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	14. A Hero's Love

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: TONIGHT IS THE FINALE! Are we all ready for EPIC FINCHEL? I AM!

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Fourteen: A Hero's Love**

It had been a long, long time since she was in this place. It was so familiar to her it almost seemed like a second home. Everything looked the same, preserved forever in her memory, taunting her with it's familiarity and nostalgia. This is where she went in her dreams, to escape it all.

The WMHS choir room had always been her safe haven, even now when it was her subconscious that was torturing her.

Walking into the familiar room, she absorbed her surroundings and everything in it. Mr. Schuester's side office, the huge Nationals trophy they had won during Senior Year, the large black piano in the center of the room. . .

She had to do a double take. Sitting at the piano, tinkling away idly on the keys, was Finn.

Now, she knew that she was dreaming. She knew the person in front of her was not her fiancé, but the memory of him that was ingrained in her heart. It had to be, because he still looked like the sixteen year old boy she had first given her heart to. The scruffy russet hair, the goofy crooked smile, the brown and blue striped sweater.

It was _her_ Finn.

"Finn?" She whispered as she stepped forward. He turned around and a glowing smile graced his features. He waved at her enthusiastically.

"Hey, Rach!" He said brightly. Her heart ached in her chest; a dull, painful throb. When was the last time she had dreamed of Finn? It had been weeks since the last time she met him in the blissful ignorance of sleep. She almost felt guilty. He patted the space next to the piano bench and she meekly steeped forward and sat down next to him. He placed a long, lingering kiss on her forehead and the ache throbbed a little bit more. "What's the matter, baby? Why do you look so sad?"

"Finn," She choked out; the name almost sounding foreign, it had been so long. "Why haven't you come back to me, yet?" Could a person cry in their sleep? She was almost positive it was happening. "I miss you so much." She collapsed in on herself while Finn turned around on the piano bench and pulled her into his arms, trying to will away her tears.

"Shh, Rach, It's okay. You have Hudson now. He will take great care of you."

"No! It's not good enough, Finn." She pounded on his chest with her fists and he let her. "He's not you! He can never be you without the memories that we shared!"

He started to laugh softly, holding her face in his hands. "Can't you see, Rachel? He _is_ me." She could feel the ache in her heart subside a little bit. "He might not be able to remember much, but Hudson _is me_, Rachel. He might be a soldier, but that doesn't change how he feels about you. That part of him, the part that loves you, the part of him that wants to protect you and cherish you more than anything in the world. . .that part of him will always be me, shining through."

He was right. Hudson was still Finn, no matter whether or not he had his memories. She had to move on, and accept that Hudson was all she had left. She would always have her memories of Finn, but she had her entire future in front of her, and Hudson was her last chance for happiness.

"I'm sorry." She couldn't help but feel like she was betraying him in some way. She had slept with Hudson last night for Christ-sakes! She didn't know if she was moving on or cheating on him.

"There's no reason to be sorry, Rach. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me." He shrugged his shoulders and his lips turned up in the same crooked smile that had always melted her heart. "I just had to be a hero, right?" Her hand slipped into his and she squeezed tightly.

"You'll _always_ be my hero, Finn." His smile was sad, and she felt herself lifting out of her dream and back to a reality full of terrorists and bodyguards.

"I love you, Rachel. Trust Hudson. Do it for me." He started to fade away right in front of her eyes and she woke up screaming. She flailed around under her covers, and felt someone trying to snap her out of her hysteria.

"Rachel! Calm down!" The familiar voice only fed her cries more, and it took Hudson a full minute to get her to stop kicking and yelling. He held her in his arms, trying to shush her, trying to get her to open her eyes and stop screaming. "Rachel, it's me, it's Hudson!"

After a few more minutes of tears and sobbing, Rachel calmed down enough for Hudson to adjust them comfortably on the bed. He didn't say another word, just stroked her hair calmly and rubbed her back in wide circles. When she finally snapped out of it, she looked like she didn't even realize she was crying. She tried to pull away from him, embarrassed, but he held onto her like a vice.

"I'm sorry, Hudson. That normally doesn't happen." That was an understatement; Rachel Barbra Berry normally never allowed herself to become that overwrought with emotion, no matter what she dreamed about. That one dream had been so intense, she was barely aware she'd even had a tantrum.

"What happened, Rachel? You scared me." Looking up into his eyes, she could see the concern written all over his face. His forehead was scrunched up in confusion and she could see the panic swirling in his eyes. He'd really been scared. . .

"I had a dream," She took a deep breath, knowing she had to get this out of her system. "About my fiancé."

"Oh." She could feel his hold on her go a little slack, but he still held on to her tightly. "A nightmare?"

"No! In fact, it wasn't a nightmare at all!" How could she even explain it? "It felt more like. . .closure." When the words came out of her lips, she knew it was the truth. All this time, she'd been denying the part of herself who just wanted to move on, holding on to the hope that Hudson's memories would return. But her dream was almost like a message from her heart to move on. To accept Hudson for who he was and find happiness with him.

"Closure?" She could hear the confusion in his voice and she tried to reassure him. She twisted her body around in his arms until she was facing him. "Is this about last night?" He pouted his lips in a heartbreaking expression and she kissed them softly. She realized that it was the first kiss she had ever initiated with Hudson. It felt nice, so she did it again.

"No, well, maybe. I don't know. I don't think so." He looked more confused now than ever before and she shook her head, trying to backtrack. "Last night was great. Amazing. But I think a part of me was still hurting. Then I had a dream about my fiance, and he told me to move on. And as much as that absolutely terrifies me," She made eye contact with him, begging him to understand her, "I'm ready, Hudson."

"Really?" He sounded so hopeful, so hesitant.

"Really." She took a deep breath, knowing in her heart that this was it.

Finn was her past, and Hudson was her future.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next 24 hours were almost pure bliss for Rachel. It was the best she had felt in over two and a half years, since Finn had left for the Army. Hudson and her had spent the entire morning in bed, making love over and over again until she had to leave for her matinée show. It had been so long since she'd had sex at all, she was surprised she was even able to perform in both shows that day, she was so achy. Now that she wasn't plagued with sadness and crippling guilt every time she looked at Hudson, she found herself wanting him more and more by the second.

She just had to stop her terrible habit of screaming out Finn's name at the end. Thank God Hudson was blissfully unaware.

She knew that it was wrong on so many levels, but that didn't stop her from doing it again when they made love that night in the shower, or on the couch after Jimmy Kimmel, or against the kitchen counters the next morning. . .

She was resting languidly on the couch while Hudson washed their breakfast dishes, when she heard a knock at the door. Hudson went to answer it, and she watched as he saluted a man in uniform who was delivering a package. He took it and went straight for the kitchen, pulling open the package and losing himself in it's contents. She didn't hear him make a single noise for a few minutes, so she got up from the couch and sat across from him on the tiny table. Pages upon pages of documents were scattered around her kitchen, and Hudson looked like he was trying to absorb every single piece of information.

"Hudson, what's the matter?"

Looking up from the documents spread in front of him, worry creased his brow. "Rachel, we have a problem." She had never seen Hudson look so deadly serious before, not even the night at the cafe. She was instantly on edge. "He found you."

She didn't have to ask who he was talking about. Charef had found her. Even after changing her stage name to Barbie Berry, which she'd absolutely LOATHED, wasn't enough to hide her from Mouad Mohammed al-Charef.

"How?" She sat in shocked silence while he pushed some of the documents forward. She stared at a black and white photograph of one of her performances, and she could see Charef's blurry face in the background. "We saw him at your matinee show yesterday. We have reason to believe it was an accident, seeing how crowded Central Park has been the past few days." It was the weekend before the Fourth of July and she had been performing to a packed crowd every day for a week. "And when we spotted him he was able to get away. But he saw you, and we think he is going to show up tomorrow." Tomorrow was the Fourth of July, and she knew the park was going to be insanely crowded. "Rachel, we think he has something _planned_."

She really didn't like the way he'd said "planned."

"What does that mean, Hudson?"

"We think he is planning an attack for tomorrow night." She stilled completely, letting the idea seep into her mind. A terrorist attack after one of her performances? In Central Park? "And we need your help."

Her head shot up in shock. "What?"

Wincing sharply, she knew he was struggling to find the words to explain. "Rachel, I've been asked by my Sergeant to try and talk you into participating in a mission for tomorrow."

Panic coursed through her system like a drug, making her shake with anxiety. "But you promised! You promised me that I would be safe! That Charef wouldn't get to me." She couldn't help but sound hysterical, she still had nightmares from the first time she and Charef had met face-to-face. She placed a hand over the scar on her face at the memory.

Sighing deeply, he ran a hand over his head, feeling overwhelmed. "I know. But this is serious Rachel, we need your help. This is about the safety of the American public."

She shot out of her seat, going into full panic mode. "No! I can't do it. You said I would be safe!" She knew it was selfish, but it was self-preservation!

Hudson stood up and grabbed her by the shoulders, trying to hold her still. "Rachel, you don't get it. If you don't do this, they'll reassign me!"

That had gotten her attention.

"What?"

"My Sergeant said that if I can't get you to participate in the mission, he would assign you a new bodyguard who could. I wouldn't be able to see you anymore. They'll send me away." The threat of losing Hudson put her into a bigger panic than Charef. "Is that what you want?"

No, that was definitely NOT what she wanted. She had just gotten back some sense of normalcy with Hudson, she wasn't about to lose him _again_. Besides, she knew that she was being selfish. If a terrorist attacked Central Park on the _Fourth of July_, she could only imagine the aftermath that would follow. People could get hurt, killed.

He took a deep breath. "After this, after we catch Charef and it's all over, I'm going to quit the Army. I decided long ago that he was the only thing keeping me here, and I intend to keep my promise and retire. Then we can be together, Rachel. We could be a real couple."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head and looked up into Hudson's worried eyes. He was still holding onto her shoulders, and anticipating her response. This was it. After this, they could finally move on and have a normal life. Together.

"OK. I'm in."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Now, do you have the Kevlar vest on?" Damn right she had the Kevlar vest on, she was practically sweating to death with the extra layer under her already heavy Ophelia costume.

"Yes, sir." She was trying to be light hearted about the mission, but in fact, she was absolutely terrified. Her and Hudson were sitting backstage during the interim of her two performances. The mission would take place after the second show, and this was the last time she would be seeing Hudson until after it was all over. Charef knew what he looked like, and would never approach her with Hudson around. She had to be alone.

That thought terrified her more than anything. Hudson had been like her shadow for the past five weeks, and today was the first time she would be without his presence since they were reunited.

"Where is your pin?" Her treble clef pin. Her GPS tracking device in case they ran off with her today.

She pulled the sleeve of her dress down, and showed him the little pin on her camisole. She couldn't have it on her costume, but it was still on her person. He smiled lightly and pulled out a Bluetooth earpiece. It looked normal enough, she'd seen hundreds of people wearing those things around the city on a daily basis.

"Here, put this on after the show. It's a two way radio that's connected to my own headset." She put the piece in her ear and could hear Hudson's voice as clear as day. "You can talk to me if that makes you less nervous. If anything happens, Rachel; If you feel like you're in any real danger at all, you know what the codeword is."

"Snow Cone." She repeated it in her head over and over again.

"That's right. When you exit the tents, all we need you to do is walk towards the reservoir. He's going to follow you, we've already spotted him in the audience of the first show, he's still here tracking you."

"Then why don't you catch him now?"

"Because we don't know where he's hiding the explosives yet. We think he is waiting until the crowd fills with more people for the fireworks display. He could get one of his men to remote detonate it from outside of the park. We need to first know where they're hiding the C4, then we can catch him."

"So all I have to do is walk around until he finds me, try and find out where the explosives are, and then yell out 'snow cone' until the Army shows up?"

"That pretty much covers it."

"But how am I supposed to find out where he's hiding the explosives?"

"Well, Rachel, you're an actress. So act." Well, that sure was a confidence booster!

She could hear the stagehands call for places, and she knew that this was the last time she would be seeing Hudson until after the mission. Panic consumed her, and she had never been so nervous before in her life. And she still had to get through an entire show before the mission even started!

"I won't be far away at all, Rachel. I promise. You won't be able to see me, but I'll be protecting you from afar." He grabbed onto her hands and squeezed tightly, trying to reassure her. He started to walk away from her, and she panicked.

"Wait!" She called after him and pulled him back towards her, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like it was the end of the world. Like it was goodbye all over again. "I _love_ you, Hudson." Had those words really escaped her lips? They must have, because Hudson's eyes looked like they were almost falling out of his face, they were so wide open in shock.

"Rachel. . ." His lips met hers for a final time, and he rested her forehead on hers. "I love you, too. You are going to be completely safe. And after this is all over, I'll be done with the Army for good."

She let his promise soak into her, giving her strength to carry out the mission. After today she could finally return to her boring old life. No more terrorists, no more worrying about her safety, no more living under the watchful eye of the Army.

It all came down to today.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The performance was over, and people were still scattered around the park. Sunbathing, playing frisbee, walking around with their kids. Everyone was having an amazing afternoon in sunny Central Park.

Except for Rachel.

She changed out of her Ophelia costume, and slipped her shirt over her Kevlar vest and camisole. She looked bulky, but at least she didn't feel like she was going to pass out anymore. The pin was on her cami, the Bluetooth earpiece was in her ear, and she could hear Hudson's voice from the other end.

"Rachel, can you hear me?" She was amazed at how much more comfortable she was with Hudson's voice in her ear. She finished packing up her things and tried to answer as casually as possible.

"Yes, sir. Loud and clear."

"Perfect. We've spotted Charef. He is standing about 50 feet from the actor's tents. He looks like he's waiting for you. When you see him, don't forget to look terrified, you're not supposed to know he's here."

She had to suppress a scoff, "Don't worry, I'm pretty terrified already."

"Don't be, I'm right here. Just listen to my voice."

"OK. I am about to exit the tents. Wish me luck."

"You don't need luck, you're Rachel Berry." Of course he had to say the most Finn-like thing right before she was risking her life for the good of the country!

"Thanks." And with a deep, steady breath, she walked out of the tents into the mid-day sun.

She started to walk forward with purpose, making it seem like she had somewhere very important to be. She could feel someones eyes following her, but made no move to turn her head around and find him in the crowd. She just walked forward.

"You're doing great, Rachel. Steady." Hudson's voice was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment, this whole situation was so surreal.

All of a sudden, she felt someone walk up behind her, and the panic started to flood her system. She felt something sharp poke her in the back and she realized with a chill of fear that it was a knife. Probably the same large knife that had forever scarred her face.

"Found you." His voice was cold, cruel, and full of hate. "Walk over to those benches over there, let's have a talk!" He sure sounded enthusiastic for someone who planned on blowing up Central Park on the nation's Independence Day. She walked forward until she reached the benches and sat down next to him. She was surprised to see that his number two man, Hamid, was with him as well. He stood next to the bench that they were sitting on, acting as guard. He slipped the knife into a holder in his pants and made himself comfortable next to her. She was shocked to see him smiling widely.

"What?" He was leering at her in a way that made her way too uncomfortable.

"I loved your performance." Well, that was unexpected.

"Um, thank you?"

"Especially the part when you drowned yourself, it was poetry." OK, this guy was certifiably insane.

"What do you want, Charef?" She almost screamed when he grabbed her by the arm, forcefully.

"I want to see all their faces tonight, when I turn Central Park into hell on earth. It should be _beautiful_." She had to stop herself from answering Hudson when she heard his voice in her ear.

"That's it, Rachel. Get him to talk about his plans."

She placed an errant strand of hair behind her ear and tried to think of something. "What's going on?"

He started to laugh. "Oh, don't worry. You will be far away from here, I wouldn't want my star to get hurt!" He started to look at her softly, the malice and hate melting away from his face. He was actually kind of attractive when he didn't look like he wanted to murder Americans. He reached over and touched her face, where her scar was visible in the bright afternoon sun. No mater how much makeup she put on it, it was always visible, much to her chagrin. She wanted nothing more but to run away from his touch, but she figured she should try and turn on her acting skills and play into his infatuation for her. She placed a hand over his and made eye contact with him.

"And this? You don't want me to be hurt but you almost sliced my face off." She stared in wonder as he started to look repentant.

"It was the Americans fault! If he hadn't interrupted us, you never would have been hurt." His hand pulled away from her face and balled up into a tight fist. "Damn them all! This is all their fault, it always is!" Hamid nodded his agreement next to the bench where he was keeping watch. She watched as Charef entered a maniacal rant, going on and on about the injustices of the world.

"That's right, Rachel. Keep him talking. That's it." Hudson's voice was like a beacon in the dark. He was the anchor to the chaos around her.

". . .And after tonight, when they watch the fireworks and are blinded by my vengeance, they will all know the pain they inflicted upon me!"

Like an epiphany, the answer struck her in that one moment. The fireworks! The explosives were hidden in the fireworks, waiting to be set off.

"The fireworks?" She repeated, hoping Hudson would understand the message. "What about them?"

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What happened to the man who was with you these past few weeks? Where is he?" He reached forward to grab her arm again and she started to panic. She couldn't hear Hudson on the other end of the ear-piece anymore. Her self-preservation instincts kicked in, and she knew she had to get out of there.

"Um, I think he went to buy me a snow cone! Yeah, a cold refreshing snow cone. You know, I think snow cones are the best summer treat available, don't you?" Her hands were twisting around in circles and she wondered where Hudson was. She'd said the password three times!

Charef's eyes widened in fear, and he shot off of the bench and ran away from her, going into the trees for cover. Hamid followed after him, a few steps behind. She immediately saw three armed men run after them, and Hudson ran up to her from his hiding spot not too far away.

"Rachel!" She shot off of the bench and ran straight into Hudson's chest, feeling like his arms were her last safe haven on earth. "You were amazing. That was some fabulous spy-work." She didn't feel amazing; in fact, she felt like she might collapse.

"Did you find the explosives?"

"Yes. They were right where you thought they would be. Whoever had planned this did a damn god job. They were all wrapped in fireworks wrappers, and anyone could have set one off thinking they were Roman Candles or something." He rubbed her arms and she leaned into him more, thankful that she'd gotten it right.

"And Charef?"

"We've got Hamid already, and we're looking for Charef. But the mission was a complete success. You're a hero, Rachel. You saved lives today."

Lifting up her head slowly, she stared into Hudson's eyes and wouldn't look away. It was over. Charef, the terrorists, it was all over.

Now she and Hudson could have a fresh start.

"I love you, Hudson." Before she'd said it in desperation. Now she said it because it burned so fiercely inside her it was scary.

"I love you too, Rachel." And as they kissed, lost in the bliss of their love, they didn't notice that Charef, who had eluded capture once again, was spying on them from his hiding spot in the woods.

He slipped away into the crowd, unseen, oblivious to the amorous couple who had ruined his plans for revenge.

They would pay first.

And they would pay dearly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

MUAH HA HA HA HA! Enjoy the finale!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	15. Broken Promises

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: OK, Kids. This is the moment you've all been waiting for. Enjoy!

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Fifteen: Broken Promises****  
**

"Yes!" If he had it his way, the rest of his life would be spent finding new ways to make Rachel scream and shout in ecstasy like she was doing today; it was one of her rare days off and she and Hudson had barely left the bed, even though it was well into the afternoon. He sure as hell didn't care, it's not like he had anywhere to be!

His eyes were glued to her face as he continued to pump into her, using the headboard as leverage. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head and he was bursting with pride. Sex with Rachel only got better and better.

He watched as her eyes started to close blissfully, and he could feel how wound up she was. Her body was tight, and he knew that she was so close to the edge. . .

"Oh, Finn!" She cried out, finally falling off of the plateau, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his thrusts with more vigor than before. It didn't take him long to join her in the ecstatic heights of orgasm, and they rode the wave together, Hudson almost collapsing on top of her.

_She said it again. Why does she keep calling me Finn during sex? _He shouldn't let it bother him, he really shouldn't. Finn was just a name. It was _his_ name, but she'd never called him that before they started having sex. He just still couldn't identify with the part of him he couldn't remember, and hearing her call him by name during such an intimate moment was kind of a buzzkill. He would never tell her that, though. Pulling out and rolling off of her, he felt her reaching for him but he stood up abruptly and left the room.

"Hudson?" She called out quizzically from the bed and he tried to shoot her a soft smile.

"I'll be right back, Rachel." And he headed to the bathroom to clean off.

At first he hadn't noticed it at all, he was so involved in the bliss of her body and the thrill of the moment that he hadn't even realized it. But after the fifth or sixth time, he had started to notice. Should he talk to her about it, and potentially ruin their already fragile relationship? Looking at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand over his face in exhaustion. Things had been great, sure. But they could be better.

It had been a week since the Fourth of July. Hamid had been captured that day at the park, but Charef was still on the loose, something that made his blood boil in his veins. What did he have to do to catch that guy? How did he keep eluding capture?

Normally he would be more upset about this, but the Army had been keeping Hamid on lock-down until he started to confess about Charef's plans. If they could get him to start talking about where Charef was hiding the weapons, they would be able to render him harmless and eventually track him down. But Hamid had to start talking first. And until Hamid started to sing, the file on Charef was still open. And he was still technically part of the Army.

Even though he finally wanted to quit and move on. He wanted to start a real life with Rachel.

If only she would take off that damn engagement ring! He didn't know what upset him more, the name-calling during sex, or the fact that she still wore the engagement ring even after telling him she was ready to move on and find closure. He didn't want to push her, but he was starting to get annoyed. She had told him that she loved him now, didn't that mean _anything_?

When he returned to her room he was worked up, and as much as he didn't want to turn their lazy afternoon into a shit storm, he was afraid that it was heading in that direction. He sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped on his boxers, while Rachel came up from behind him, kissing his neck and shoulders.

"Where did you go? I was hoping for round three."

_Don't look into her gorgeous, smoldering eyes Hudson, she will hypnotize you with her beauty and make you forget why you're upset._ Facing away from her, he stared at her closet door instead of her face, took a deep breath, and let loose.

"Why do you only call me by my first name while having sex?" The kissing stopped immediately, and he felt her pulling away from him. He turned around and she was already out of bed, slipping on her panties.

"I don't know what you're talking about." There was no way he was going to let her avoid his question; he _knew_ that she knew.

"Rachel, you just screamed my first name out about five minutes ago! I heard you. And I've heard you do it every single time for a week. You know I don't like my first name."

She turned around defensively, with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "And why not? It's a good name!"

Finally, she'd dropped the oblivious act. "I can't relate to that name. It's like, I identify the name 'Finn' with the things I can't remember." He walked up to her and tried to explain. "And I don't want to be reminded of what I can't remember while we're making love."

Crossing her hands over her chest stubbornly, he watched as her face pinched together in pain. "Well maybe you should start focusing more on what you can't remember. Oh, wait, you can't, because you're still in the Army and my life is still technically in danger." She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "We caught Hamid a week ago, why hasn't he said anything yet? I want a _real life_, Hudson. I want to move on."

"You think I don't want to move on?" He was yelling and he couldn't help himself; he was starting to get frustrated. "I have spent the past eight months in agony Rachel, _agony_. Every day, all I can think about is how that bastard ruined my life! I want him gone! I want his file closed so I can retire from the Army. I want to move in to this apartment for good and share it with you and be _normal_ for once!" He watched as she hastily got dressed in front of him. "And speaking of _moving on_, why haven't you taken off that ring yet?"

Her head shot up in shock, then quickly turned away. She started to twist the ring around her finger nervously. "My ring?"

"Yes, Rachel, your ring. Your _engagement_ ring. The fiancé, you said you had finally gotten over, that you were ready to move on from. Why are you still wearing his ring?" The anger was bubbling under the surface and her silence was making it start to boil over. He had been so patient with her up until now. He had never wanted to push her in regards to her fiancé, but she had told him that she was ready to move on over a week ago. And even after making love and planning on moving in with her, she still wore the other man's ring? His masculine pride could only take so much of a beating!

Under his interrogative gaze, he watched as she started to get flustered and she ran from the bedroom into the kitchen. He followed her, not allowing her to get away. "Rachel!" She was backed up against the fridge and he stood in the entrance so she had no means of escape. He didn't want to corner the poor girl, but he had no other choice. He wanted his answers. He thought he deserved to know the truth.

"He might still come back!" She screamed like a trapped animal. He could feel his heart breaking in his chest. After all this time, after everything they had been through together, she was still holing on to the memory of her fiancé.

The anger he usually kept so in check was finally surfacing, and he couldn't stop himself from slamming his fist down onto the countertops, loudly. He watched her jump in surprise, and wide, frightened eyes met his. "Are you serious? Rachel, tell me you're not serious." He walked up to her and placed his hands on her upper arms, forcing her to look up into his eyes. "Rachel, he is _not_. _coming_. _back_." He tried to emphasize the words as much as possible to convey the truth. She shook her head in denial.

"No, you don't know that!" A single tear fell from her eye. "Why won't you just _remember_!" He could hear the hysteria seep into her voice and her last statement threw him off a little, but he ignored her comment and pushed on.

"Why won't you realize that your fiancé left and isn't going to come back no matter how long you wait! This is _bullshit_, Rachel! He is _gone_."

She stilled in his arms, and her head drooped down sadly. She looked deflated, and he could see the tears dripping off of her chin. "I can't do this anymore, Hudson. I wanted to wait until after we got Charef, but now I just don't care. I'm so tired of this. I'm done." She sounded so broken, so lost, that he had to take a few steps back from her to make sure she was okay. He watched as she lifted up her head, and the expression on her face was heartbreaking. "You're right, _Hudson_." The inflection on his name was sharp and spiteful. "My fiancé is _never_ coming back." And with that, she lifted up her left hand and took her engagement ring off of her finger. She walked up to him and placed the ring in his hand, closing his fist around it. Without another word, she walked from the kitchen to the bedroom, and he heard her close and lock the door, escaping to the privacy of her bedroom to calm down.

He stood in the kitchen, alone, with his fist closed around the ring that had kept Rachel from being able to move on. He felt victorious as he felt the small weight in his hands. He had defeated the unknown fiancé! He had gotten her to take off the ring!

He opened up the fist in his hand and stared at the small band. The writing on the front was shining in the afternoon sun, and for the first time he could finally read the name of the man who had been the obstacle between him and Rachel. He flipped the ring over and read the small engraving.

_Finn and Rachel_

It felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. Like bricks had dropped into his stomach. He _must_ have read that wrong, his eyes were playing tricks on him! He reread the ring over and over again, not believing what he was seeing. His heart kick-started up again, and it pounded fiercely in his chest. He felt dizzy. He felt so damn dizzy. . .

He fell to the floor, clutching his head in agony. His head hurt so much! He clutched the ring in his hands and his vision blurred. Blinking furiously, he watched as Rachel's apartment melted away around him, and he closed his eyes and lost himself in the darkness. . .

Memory after memory played out in his mind, filling up the gaps and holes in his brain. His mother; his poor, sweet, loving mother was the first thing he saw in his vision. After that it was like a slide show of his life; in order. From the first day of kindergarten, to Boy Scouts, to meeting Puck on the playground in fourth grade, to middle school, football camp, sophomore year, Rachel, Glee Club, Graduation. . .

_"I can do great things for the Army Rachel. I can save people. I can be a hero." "You're already my hero."__  
__  
__"If I don't come back, I just want you to know how much I love you. And no matter what happens, you have to promise me you'll become the star you've always dreamed of being."__  
__  
__"Rachel Barbara Berry, will you marry me?"__  
__  
__"And then we'll get married?" "Then we'll get married, I promise." "Don't you forget it." "Never."_

Scene after scene played out in front of him, and in a flash of recognition, he remembered _everything_.

His name was Finn Hudson.

And he was Rachel Berry's fiancé.

He didn't know how long he sat on Rachel's kitchen floor, clutching his head in agony while his memory returned to him piece by piece. All he knew was that when he finally snapped out of it, the tears were pouring down his face. What had he _done_? He had broken every single promise he'd ever made to her and basically rubbed it in her face over and over again.

He stared down at the little ring in his palm; the ring he had been squeezing so tightly it had left an increase in his hand. This one ring had been the trigger to all of his lost memories. He kissed the little band and closed his eyes. It was weird, the way he felt. He didn't feel any different than before, when he thought he was Hudson, he just knew that he was _back_. He felt normal again. He felt _whole_.

"Rachel!" He called out her name, desperate to see her. Desperate to apologize to her for all the pain he must have put her through. All the times she would cry over her fiancé; she was crying over him and the fact that he couldn't remember her. His heart ached knowing that she had been through so much agony. He didn't care if it took him the rest of their lives, he was going to make this up to her somehow. He pounded on her bedroom door, screaming out her name. "Rachel, open the door. It's me! It's Finn! I can remember everything!" He was back. He was finally back and he needed to see her, he needed to apologize and beg for her forgiveness!

But he didn't hear a sound coming from the other side. Not even a sniffle.

"Rachel?" He started to pound louder, and there was still no answer. Panic started to seep into his system when he remembered the reason why he didn't like it when she locked the bedroom door. There was still an international terrorist out looking for her!

He kicked the door in, busting it open and running into the room looking for Rachel. Scattered glass was spread throughout the floor and he stared in horror at the broken window that lead to the fire escape ledge. The window he kept locked at all times.

"Rachel!" He screamed out of the window at the floors below and saw no one in sight. In a panic, he whipped out his cell phone, trying to trace the GPS pin she was supposed to wear at all times. He froze in fear when the trace pinpointed her at her apartment. He realized in horror that she wasn't wearing her pin.

Rachel had been kidnapped. And he had no idea where she was.

But he knew who did.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Where is he!" He roared as he entered the headquarters where they were keeping Hamid. This was his only chance. If he couldn't get Hamid to tell him where Charef was keeping Rachel, who knows what would happen to her.

"Whoa, Specialist. Where's the fire?" His Sergeant came out of his office and gave Finn a good-once over, taking in his flushed and disheveled state. "What's going on?"

"He has her, sir. Charef has taken Rachel."

The Sergeant was shocked, but put up his hands in a placating manner. "Alright Specialist, just calm down. . ." Calm down? How was he supposed to calm down when a maniacal terrorist kidnapped his fiancée?

"I can't calm down, sir! I request permission to interrogate the prisoner." His Sergeant gave him a severe glare.

"Now, Specialist, I understand that this assignment was important to you, but you and I both know that you interrogating Hamid is a bad idea. We've tried everything and he hasn't said a word. We both know that torture is illegal, and you are in no state to be interrogating him. He's said on many occasions that he would rather take the full extent of punishment than tell us anything about Charef."

Panic flared throughout his system. Who knew what Charef was doing with Rachel right now, or how far away he was able to get with her. Hamid was his last chance, and he didn't care what he had to do.

"Just give me fifteen minutes with him, sir. I'll have the information I need." The Sergeant gave him a steely nod and unlocked the door leading to the interrogation room. He sat and waited for them to bring down Hamid. When they sat him down across from Finn it took every ounce of control to stay in his seat and wait calmly for the others to leave. He was not proud of what he was about to do.

When the other soldiers left, and Finn was all alone in the room with Hamid, he stood up and leaned forward as much as he could. His whole body was tense and ready to snap, but he focused on channeling his energy into his interrogation. Hamid sat and smirked at him from the other end, clearly enjoying how riled up Finn was.

"Where is Charef?"

Hamid raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you've got? You Americans really know how to strike fear in the hearts of your enemies."

He slammed his fists down on the table and stared into Hamid's eyes, radiating hate out of every pore. _"Where is he?"_

Hamid laughed. "You and I both know I'm not going to say anything, so why do you bother? Nothing you say will make me talk, and you can't touch me." The arrogance in his voice made Finn's blood boil in rage and he was starting to lose the tenuous hold he had on his self-control. He marched forward and grabbed Hamid by the hair, slamming Hamid's head down onto the table. The sound of bone hitting metal echoed off of the walls of the room, and Hamid looked more than a little shocked.

"Do I look like someone who gives a shit about International Interrogation Laws, Hamid? Do you think I care about being Court Marshalled over an insignificant fuck like yourself? _Tell me_ where he's hiding Rachel." Hamid smiled and Finn could see blood filling his mouth. It looked like he had even knocked a tooth out. Hamid spit the blood out onto the table and snarled at his interrogator.

"He'll kill her you know. He will make you suffer just like he has suffered!" Finn reached for his back pocket and took out the pocket knife he kept on him at all times. He got close to Hamid's face and flipped open the knife a few inches away from his eye. He started to point the tip of the knife toward his right eye, and he could see Hamid start to flinch and squirm. But luckily for Finn, Hamid was handcuffed into the chair, and couldn't move away from the knife that was slowly moving closer and closer to his pupil. The terrorist stared up at Finn in shock, and realized that there was nothing holding Finn back from carving his eyes out. He was a desperate man, and desperate men did desperate things.

"You're going to tell me where he's hiding Rachel, and you're going to tell me _now_."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A few minutes later, Finn came out of the interrogation room with the address to Charef's warehouse. He hadn't had to carve Hamid's eyes out, but he wasn't proud of what he had done inside of that room. He hoped Hamid didn't have _permanent_ brain damage from all the times he slammed his head down onto the table. But it didn't matter. He knew where Rachel was now, and he was going to find her.

"Get the team together. We're going to finish this tonight." His Sergeant went to gather the rest of his team while Finn went down to the locker room to change. Gearing up, he looked in the mirror on his way out and stared at the soldier looking back at him. This was it. Tonight was his last night as a soldier. Whether it was Charef or him who wound up dead after today, this would be the last night he'd put on a uniform ever again.

Rachel was the only thing on his mind as he loaded his van with weapons and supplies. He had broken every single promise he had ever made to her. He had promised to come home and marry her. He'd promised to love her and cherish her. He'd promised to protect her. And he had failed her in every single way.

Never again. He was going after Rachel and he was _going_ to get her back.

Even if it killed him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

The Final Showdown is coming next! Charef VS Finn!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	16. Tick Tock

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: THE EPIC SHOWDOWN IS HERE. I really hope I got the emotions right in this chapter, action is not really my forte, but I'm pulling out the big guns tonight.  
**  
****Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Sixteen: Tick Tock**

"God dammit!" She screamed as loudly as possible as she slammed her bedroom door shut, locking the doorknob and shutting herself away from Hudson and away from her pain. She didn't even want to look at him right now; it was too much of a reminder of what she'll never have back.

Collapsing on her bed, she grabbed one of her pillows and held it to her chest tightly, like she was holding onto the ends of her sanity. What would Hudson do when he read the ring and saw that he'd been the missing fiancé all along? Would he be angry? Happy?

Right now she didn't care. It felt like she was mourning the loss of Finn all over again. His words had been like stab wounds in her heart, and they wouldn't stop reverberating in her mind. _"He is not. coming. back." _She almost put her hands over her ears, thinking that it would block out the torturous thoughts raging in her mind.

Her Finn was truly gone.

And he was never coming back.

A shrill, sharp heart-stopping crash brought her out of her misery, and she looked up to see that her bedroom window had been shattered to a million pieces. In complete and utter terror, she sat up in her bed and saw Mouad Mohammed al-Charef climbing in through her window with a rag of some kind in his hand.

Terror seized her to the core. He was inside of her house, looking at her with more hate and malice than she had ever seen on a person. Taking a deep breath, she filled her lungs with air and got ready to let out the most blood-curdling scream of her life. He started to walk towards her, smirking, and she let loose; almost tearing up her throat with the force of her scream.

But Charef just continued to stalk forward until he had reached the bed. Rachel ran for the door and he tried to grab her, missing her arm by inches. Where the hell was Hudson? Maybe he had read the ring and freaked out and left her! She made it to her door, but the lock hindered her escape. It only took a split second for Charef to cross the distance of her bedroom and place the rag over her mouth. She held her breath as long as she could, trying to struggle against him and fight him off. But she eventually succumbed to the lack of air and took a deep breath, inhaling the chloroform that was soaked into the rag.

Her vision grew blurry, and her body felt so damn _heavy_. She looked up into Charef's eyes and saw nothing but victory and hatred shining back at her. His face grew more and more fuzzy by the second and it felt like she was falling into nothingness. Her body was suddenly flying through the air as Charef carried her out of the window, and the last thing she thought of before passing out was Hudson, and how he'd been right about that window all along.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When she regained consciousness, the disorientation was overwhelming. She felt like she might either pass out again or vomit from the way her head felt, and her stomach was rolling around in tense circles. Every muscle in her body was screaming at her in discomfort, and she couldn't see anything in front of her face.

She was tied up like a prisoner, sitting on her knees with her arms bound at the wrists behind her back. Her legs were also tied together by the ankles, and there was absolutely no slack in the ropes. She wanted to scream for help, but a cloth gag was tied around her mouth, making it impossible to scream or call out for help. It all came out as mumbled noise, and it didn't carry far.

Closing her eyes, she willed herself to stay as calm and collected as possible. There was absolutely no reason for her to panic right this second, she needed to find out what was going on. Where was she? Where was Charef? And what was his plan with her?

She struggled against her binds, to no avail. She was tied up tight, and she wasn't getting out of here without someone's help. With a muffled cry, she realized that she wasn't wearing her pin; her GPS tracking device was still on her nightstand, where she put it every night before bed. There had been no reason to wear it around the house when Hudson was around. She knew she should have just attached that thing to her bra or underwear or something.

"You're awake." A chilling voice called out to her in the darkness and Rachel went on full alert. She was already disoriented from the chloroform in her system, and now she couldn't even see where Charef was hiding. She tried to speak, calling out expletives and just trying to scream, but it all came out as a muffled jumble.

"Now, now, Rachel. Don't be that way. You deserved this. You _betrayed_ me. I thought you were different from the others. That maybe because you had Sabwa's face that you would have some part of her heart as well. But you proved to me that you're just another American tool, just like the rest of them." He chuckled and moved closer to her; she could hear his footsteps echoing in the dark around her, and she could make out the silhouette of a figure in front of her. "But I should thank you, really. I decided to change my plans for vengeance all because of you!" He started to walk around her in circles. "I spend a lot of time thinking about how to make the most of my vendetta. I thought that a grand gesture, like the fireworks at the park, was the perfect way to make my statement. When American lives are lost, the point gets across. But then I saw you and your soldier boy." She had to bite down onto her gag to stop herself from screaming again. "And I thought about myself. And Sabwa." His pacing slowed, and he fell down onto his haunches in front of her, patting her head condescendingly. She still couldn't see him in the darkness, but she could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "And I decided that the perfect revenge would be to make someone else just as miserable as I've been for the past six years." He paused and his voice was arrogant and gloating. "I'm going to kill you, and your soldier will become just like me. He will live forever without his love, and know the pain that I have felt. Maybe he'll even go crazy! Justice served." She struggled against her binds harder than ever and he just sat there and giggled at her exertion of effort. "And if he comes to try to save you, he'll die too! So really it's win-win for me!"

Like an enthusiastic child, he hopped back onto his feet and walked away from her. "Now, I want to see the look on your pretty face when you realize what I have in store for you!" All of a sudden, the lights were turned on, and it took Rachel almost a full minute to adjust to the blinding light. Blinking furiously, she looked up and took in her surroundings.

She was in a basement, from what she could see. The one window was small and very close to the ceiling. She could see a staircase at the far end of the room leading upstairs. It resembled a factory or a warehouse with its barren walls and nondescript decor. She could smell mold and dust in the air, so thick it was almost clogging up her senses. She looked up at Charef and the mania reflected in his eyes was terrifying.

"Come on, now! Don't tell me you still haven't noticed your new accessory!" He pointed at her chest and she slowly bent her head down to see what he was pointing at. Her face contorting into shock, it took her a full minute to figure out what it was.

_Oh God, this is not happening, please tell me this is not happening. . ._

A black cloth vest was draped around her midriff, and she could see small brown boxes attached to wires, looping around the fabric and holding it all together. It was lumpy and tangled and there was a blank screen in the middle of it, connecting it all together.

He had strapped a _bomb_ onto her.

The screams escaped her mouth like she was a victim in a horror movie. They tore at her throat and left her gasping for air. The gag had muffled them, but the panic and terror was consuming her. She couldn't control the hysteria that flowed throughout her like a drug. He was really planning on killing her! He was going to blow her up into a million pieces and leave Hudson to suffer and mourn her for the rest of his life.

And she could do nothing to stop him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote. Walking towards her, he dropped to his knees in front of her and placed a hand on her cheek. She wished she could spit at him. "_That's_ the reaction I was hoping for! If only you had been more like Sabwa. We could have been happy together." She stared in horror as he placed a small kiss on her forehead.

Feeling bolder and more desperate than ever before in her tragically short life, she pulled her head back and slammed her forehead forward into his, head-butting him and knocking him over onto his ass. White light filled her vision and she was almost seeing stars. Her head was in splitting agony, but it wouldn't matter for much longer. At least she didn't feel so helpless anymore.

"Bitch!" He stood up, leaving her dizzy and disoriented on the floor. Pulling out the remote, he pressed a small button and her vest came to life. The small screen blinked four zeros, then changed into 20:00. When it changed to 19:59 with a soft _tick_, she knew that this was it.

She had less than twenty minutes left to live.

Charef pulled out a black sack and placed it over Rachel's head. The darkness consumed her again, and she could no longer see the numbers on the screen. All she could hear was the soft tick, tick, tick of the clock, and she tried desperately to keep track of how many of them passed.

"Goodbye, Rachel." She heard his footsteps fade away and she knew she was all alone. The only sound she could hear was the soft tick tick tick of the clock, and now it started to sound like booming thunder in the vacancy of the basement. In fact, she couldn't tell what was louder, the clock or her pounding heart.

She squeezed her eyes shut under the thick black sack that had covered her head. What were you supposed to do when you only had twenty minutes to live? There had been so many things that she'd wanted to do in her life: Sing on a Broadway stage, visit Paris, get married. She would never do any of those things now. So instead of dwelling on what could never be, she found herself falling back into her memories of the past, and relishing in the things she had accomplished in her productive albeit short life.

Should it have surprised her that Finn was basically the only thing she thought about? He had been such an important part of her life for so long, it was impossible to think of anyone else at the moment. As the clock ticked away, she knew in her heart that she would never see him again. At least she'd had Hudson. It consoled her to know that part of Finn will live on in Hudson forever.

She realized in that very moment that she was crying. The panic and terror had become too much, and now she was just giving up on hope altogether. Keeping her eyes closed, she just listened to the ticking clock as it counted down the seconds until it was all over. How much time had already passed? Five minutes, maybe ten?

The footsteps returned, and she feared what Charef would do to her next. He'd already signed her death warrant, was he going to beat the crap out of her beforehand as well? The sound came closer and closer and she let a whimper escape her lips in fear.

The sack was ripped off of her head, and her eyes stayed squeezed shut in fear of what was coming next. Why couldn't he just let her die in peace?

"Rachel!"

Her eyes shot open at the sound of the familiar voice. Staring at the vision in front of her, she didn't know whether to be happy or horrified.

Hudson was standing in front of her in full uniform, absorbing the scene in front of his eyes in absolute horror.

He had found her.

"Hudson!" Was what she tried to say, but it came out as "Hussah!" He reached forward and untied the gag in her mouth, and she tried desperately to clear her throat. "Hudson, get away from here!" She couldn't let him die too, not after everything he'd been through. She sneaked a glance at the clock on her chest and it continued to count down from 9:45.

They had less than ten minutes left.

But instead of running for his life, he reached for his radio and called his team. "I need a full bomb squad in the basement, right this second, we have a live unit. I repeat, we have less than 10 minutes!" He walked behind her and started to untie her bindings, finally freeing her hands and working on her legs.

"Hudson, please, there isn't any time!" His hands stilled and he turned her around sharply so she was facing him.

"Rachel, I-" He was about to continue when someone came up from behind and cracked him over the head with a small remote. He fell over in front of her and she tried to reach for him, but her legs were still bound. She started to untie her legs, the clock ticking past 8:30.

"HUDSON!" Charef was behind him, smirking as Hudson tried to get back on his feet and regain his balance. He lifted up his rifle and aimed it at Charef, but he didn't look intimidated.

"Shoot me. Give me a reason to end it all now." Charef placed his fingers over the detonator but Hudson didn't make a move.

"You want to die that badly?" They started to walk around in a wide circle, Rachel sitting right in the middle of their showdown. Her legs were free, but she made no move to escape. She wouldn't leave Hudson alone. She decided in that very moment that they would either live together or die together. The men glared daggers at each other as the clock continued to _tick tick tick_.

Charef shrugged his shoulders. "Death is all I have left. Drop the gun, soldier. I'll drop the remote, and we can end this like men."

From her position on the floor, she watched as Hudson put the gun down, and kicked it over to the far end of the room. Charef placed the remote on the floor and kicked it away as well.

The pacing continued.

The bomb squad members came down into the basement then, completely covered in protective gear. Neither of them were armed, so they couldn't help Hudson fight off Charef. They were here for the bomb. They took one look at Rachel and beckoned her to go to them.

She wouldn't move.

"Rachel, go to the bomb team." Hudson's voice was low and severe and deadly serious. But she decided that if Hudson was going to die here, then she was going to die here with him.

"Hudson, no, I can't leave you." Her voice was weak from the strain of screaming, and she was so exhausted.

"Rach," In that very second she looked up into Hudson's face and realized that something had been different. The way he was looking at her, the way he was speaking. . . "I will never forgive myself if I let my fiancée die today. Go to the bomb team." Looking into her eyes, he shot her a smile that rocked her world to the core.

The man in front of her wasn't Hudson.

It was _Finn._

Finn was _back_.

As if her heart needed another reason to stop beating in her chest.

"Finn?" Now there was no way in hell she was leaving him! The clock on her chest hit 6:00, and she started to panic.

"This man ruined my life." He was still pacing around in circles with Charef, their eyes never leaving the other. "He took everything away from me. My friends, my memories, my life. I would rather die than let him take you away too, Rachel." She stared in wonder as a single tear fell down his face. "Go to the bomb team. Do it for me."

Nodding slowly, she started to crawl on her hands and knees towards the members of the bomb team. She could still hear the soft ticks of the clock, counting down the little time they had left before the bomb went off. When Charef saw her making a run for it, he stared to run after the detonator, preferring to kill them all then let her get away. Finn tackled him from behind and brought him down while she shot to her feet and ran to the bomb team. Two people gathered around her, holding her still by the shoulders as the team took apart the bomb.

Her face was glued on Finn as she watched him and Charef struggle for dominance. Charef tried to push Finn off of him, but Finn landed a hard punch into his solar plexus, knocking the air out of him. Charef used his momentum to throw Finn off of him, and gasped for air as he tried to reach the detonator again. Finn was faster as he knocked it away, out of Charef's reach.

The clock continued to tick away in front of her as the bomb team tried to diffuse the weapon attached to her chest. "We can't find the trigger! We might be able to get it off of you but we can't diffuse it!" The clock ticked past 4:00 minutes. This thing was going off no matter if it was attached to her or not! She was pretty sure her heart would never beat properly again after this day.

"GET IT OFF OF ME!" She practically screamed, and looked over at Finn who was still trying to fight off Charef.

Charef ran head first into Finn's chest, knocking the two of them into a wall as he landed punch after punch in Finn's sides. Finn was able to push him away and landed a hard punch to his face. Charef went down like a light, but then shot up and ran for the detonator instead of going after Finn. The action was so swift and fluid, it took Finn a second too long to respond, and Charef almost had the remote in his grasp. In a split second decision, Finn ran for his rifle instead of after Charef, and by the time Charef had the detonator in his hands, Finn had unloaded half a clip into his back. In complete shock, Rachel watched as Charef fell to the floor, dead. Her fiancée, the man she loved more than anyone else in the world, had just killed a man in front of her very eyes. And she didn't know whether to be proud or appalled. She just stared in shock and horror as Finn ran up to her and the bomb team. Looking down, she blanched when the clock hit 2:00

"I need this building evacuated immediately! GO GO GO!" He yelled into his radio, and she could hear people's footsteps above her. "How much longer?"

"Give us 30 seconds, sir!" The team tore at the fabric, trying to get it off of her instead of trying in vain to diffuse the bomb. Her eyes never left Finn's as they continued to stare at each other, the longing and desperation clear in their gaze. For a moment, it was like the bomb team wasn't even there, like their life wasn't literally ticking away in front of them.

"You should be running." How could she be so calm when the clock in front of her was telling her she had 90 seconds to live?

"I'm not going anywhere without you, Rachel." He reached forward and grabbed her hand. "If we're gonna die, then we're gonna die together." The bomb team around her continued to try and untangle her from the bomb, and in a flurry of movement, she watched in awe as the fabric slipped away from her, and the bomb fell to her feet.

"MOVE MOVE MOVE!" The bomb team ran for the exit and Finn grabbed onto Rachel and flung her over his shoulders, running for the exit. The bomb lay on the floor, still ticking away, and she could see the numbers start to count down from 00:59 seconds. She closed her eyes and started to count _one-Mississippi, two Mississippi_, as Finn carried her out of the basement.

The team made it up the stairs and into the main part of the giant warehouse where he had been keeping her. She was already on twenty-Mississippi, and the warehouse seemed huge. Finn held onto her for dear life as they navigated the complicated warehouse, running through the stacks and stacks of weapons that Charef had been hiding.

_Thirty-eight-Mississippi, Thirty-nine-Mississippi, Forty-Mississippi. . ._ She was starting to think that they wouldn't make it. Once the bomb went off this whole place was going up in flames with the amount of weapons that were stored here. They had to get as far away as possible in less than twenty seconds.

"We're almost there, Rach! Hold on!" Finn's voice was her last anchor left to her sanity as her eyes squeezed shut and the seconds continued to tick away. She felt the cool breeze whipping her face and she realized that they had made it outside. She opened her eyes just in time to see the epic explosion of Charef's weapons cache. The sound was deafening, the light was blinding, the heat she felt was scalding, and the smoke she breathed in was thick.

But she was alive.

And so was Finn.

So much chaos was going on around her in that moment it was hard to focus. Finn had placed her down on an Ambulance's gurney while his team debreifed him about what they'd found. While Finn had been looking for Rachel, his team swept the entire warehouse. They had found all of Charef's documents, filled with contacts and information on other weapon's dealers and terrorists. With this information, they would be able to track down and arrest others who were a threat to national security.

An EMT cleaned the nasty cut on her forehead she hadn't even realized she'd received from head-butting Charef. Finn came over to her and wouldn't leave her sight until the entire perimeter of the warehouse had been secured. They didn't say a word to the other, just sat in silence while the other personnel secured the area. She was still buzzing with adrenaline, and her emotions were so off the charts it was almost comical. It wasn't until Finn's sergeant approached them when she finally knew that everything was going to be okay.

Finn saluted his Sergeant, and the officer reciprocated the action. "Did you capture Charef?"

"He's dead, sir. We were able to find all of his contacts and we've sent them to HQ so they could start tracking the others down." She watched as a small smile graced his features. "It's over."

"Good job, Hudson." Finn shook his head softly.

"Sorry Sergeant. Call me Finn. I quit."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

I hope you enjoyed the action! Two more chapters left!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . . Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	17. The Return of Finn Hudson

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. This is purely for fun. Enjoy! :)

A/N: Were in the home stretch people! Remember in chapter one when I said to buckle your seat belts? It sure has been one hell of a ride! Thanks for sticking with it! I LOVE YOU ALL!

**Hero****  
****  
****Chapter Seventeen: The Return of Finn Hudson**

"I quit." How long had he been aching to say those words? How long had it been since he'd sworn revenge on the man who had ruined his life?

Eight months.

Eight months of agony and anguish. Of feeling lost and empty. Eight months of tracking and tracing and obsessing and vengeance.

And now it was over.

Charef was gone.

He looked over at Rachel, sitting on the EMT's gurney, getting her cut cleaned out. He wondered idly how she'd gotten it. It took him a second to realize that his Sergeant was still talking to him, even though he had just given him his notice.

"That's all fine and good, Specialist, but you still have to return to HQ one more time to fill out your paperwork and turn in your weapons. After that you're good to go." Nodding his head slowly, he made eye contact with Rachel who had heard the sergeant's commands.

"Rachel, I'll be back in an hour. I have to go do this, and then we'll have time to talk, okay?" He didn't want to leave her alone, but this was his last errand ever for the Army, and then he would be free. He stood silently while she nodded her head sadly.

"Alright, I have some cleaning up to do anyway." Right, the shattered glass in her bedroom from Charef. . .

The Army escorted Rachel back to her apartment, and Finn watched as she entered it alone. Running a hand over his face in frustration, he knew that when he got back, they were going to have one hell of a conversation. Where would they even start?

Going back to HQ after all this time was strange. Cleaning out his locker and barracks, he was amazed at how few possessions he'd really had. Hudson had truly been a shell of himself. He filled out all of his paperwork and handed in his weapons. The file on Charef was now officially closed, and when his Sergeant saluted him for the final time, he also handed him an envelope.

"This is for you, son. Thank you for your service to this country. Now go and live the life you want." Hastily opening the envelope, he realized it was a paycheck. He almost dropped it when he saw what the amount was for.

That was _a lot_ of zeroes. More zeros than he had ever seen on one check, ever in his life.

Grinning wildly, he turned on his heel, exited the headquarters, and never looked back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Entering the small apartment building, he knew that Rachel was upstairs waiting for him so they could talk. To say that he was anxious was an understatement; he was practically terrified. Not even an international terrorist could strike fear into his heart like Rachel Berry could. She was a force of nature, and like nature, she was fierce and unpredictable.

Walking into the apartment, he could hear the loud roaring of a vacuum from the direction of Rachel's bedroom. She had placed a thick garbage bag over the window with duct tape, and was currently vacuuming the floor. They would have to get that window fixed ASAP.

She looked fully absorbed in her cleaning; her brow was furrowed and she looked like she was concentrating very hard with each push and pull of the vacuum. It looked like there wasn't even any glass on the floor left, but she still kept pushing it around the far end of the room. It took her a minute to even look up, and she almost dropped the cleaning apparatus when she noticed him standing there. She shut of the appliance with a loud cut of the motor.

"Hudson!" She literally squeaked. "I mean, Finn." She shook her head in embarrassment. "Sorry, the name is like a reflex. I'll get over it."

He nodded his head softly and walked over to the end of her bed, sitting down. He patted the space next to him and looked at her expectantly. "Have a seat. We need to talk." He could feel his pulse begin to race as she made her way over to the bed, sitting about a foot away from him. She smiled at him timidly, and he returned it, but they kind of just sat there for a minute, not saying anything. What could they say? Where should they even start?

As usual, Rachel was the first person to break the silence. "So." She let the word hang in the air and the tension between them thickened.

"So." He echoed her statement and they were getting nowhere fast. "How did you get that cut on your head?" He had to know. It was driving him crazy.

She looked sheepish and a blush spread over her face. "I head-butted Charef." It took him a second to process the information, and a mental image of his tiny fiancee smashing her head into Charef's made him laugh.

"You head-butted an international terrorist?" She nodded her head, ashamed. "That's my girl."

She shot him a small smile and the silence and tension returned, even thicker than before. "How much do you remember?" Turning around to face her on the edge of the bed, he reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it.

"_Everything_, Rachel. I remember it all." She looked at him like she didn't believe him, like it was all too good to be true. "I remember my mom, our friends, high school. I remember asking you to marry me before they sent me off to war. I can even remember the eight months when I thought I was Hudson." He squeezed her hand, desperate for her to understand. "It's _me_, Rach."

"How did it happen?" He smiled softly as he pulled the dog tags out from under his shirt. Clinking softly against the metal ID tags, was Rachel's engagement ring.

"The ring. I read my name on the front and it was the trigger I'd needed for my lost memories. I think I was on the floor for hours, just remembering things scene-by-scene. By the time I came to, you were gone." The tears started to fill her eyes and he could tell it was coming; the big emotional Rachel Berry explosion was on the horizon.

But it never came. She didn't scream, she didn't yell. She didn't throw a tantrum or blame him or curse him.

She just cried. Very softly and very silently, the tears were flowing from her eyes like rivers of anguish. "You _promised_ me." She looked deflated; like it took so much effort to just sit there and sob. No wonder she wasn't yelling, he didn't think she had the energy left to yell.

"I know." Massive, choking, crippling guilt washed over him when he witnessed the true heartbreak he had caused her.

"You told me you would never forget me. That you would come home and marry me." Her eyes closed as the tears continued to fall. "And then you came back but you weren't really back. And it was like losing you every single day all over again." She laughed and it was tainted with a twinge of hysteria. "I thought I was going to go crazy in the beginning!"

His eyes burned with the sting of incoming tears and his voice broke with his emotion as he tried to inch closer to her on the bed. "I am _**so**_ sorry." The words sounded lame, even to him, but what else could he say? It killed him to know that she had been suffering so much. "I don't care if it takes the rest of my life but I will make it all up to you. I'll find a way, I swear."

"Why couldn't you just remember right away!" There was the anger he'd been waiting to see! "Why did it take so _damn_ long!" She opened her eyes again, and turned to Finn with an expression that made his heart bleed for his beautiful fiancée. No one as gorgeous as her should ever look so broken. He let the guilt burn him like fire. He deserved it. "I _missed_ you." Those three little words broke down even the toughest of his defenses, and like a damn bursting, the emotion poured out if him. He pulled Rachel into his arms, holding onto her delicate frame like his life depended on it. Her felt her wrap her arms around him as well and he tightened his hold on her.

"Rachel, I missed you even when I didn't even know what I was missing. You were always there in my heart, even when I couldn't remember who I was. I'm just so _damn_ sorry." What else could he say? Nothing could take back the anguish and pain they had both been through. Nothing could rewind time and change the past. All they had now was the future, and each other.

"So, you're back?" She sniffled into his shirt and he smiled softly, resting his head on top of hers.

"Yes, Rach. I'm back. No more Army. It's over."

"What about Hudson?" He could detect the longing in her tone. Hudson? He suddenly remembered that she had declared her love for Hudson; like he was a different person when he was really just an extension of Finn's personality. Was it even possible to love two parts of the same person? How could he get her to understand?

"Rachel, I _am_ Hudson. Just like Hudson was me, except I couldn't remember. Instead of there being a Finn and a Hudson, now I'm just _Finn Hudson_. And I'm ready to finally move on with my fiancee."

She pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes hesitantly. "There's just one more thing."

"What is it?"

"You," She paused and looked away from him, "_killed_ Charef." It was like she had poured ice water over his head, he was so frozen. What was he supposed to say? He'd killed a lot of terrorists and insurgents in the Army, but never in front of his terrified fiancee in the middle of a life-or-death situation. Did she hate him now? Was she disgusted with him or something? He started to panic. And when he panicked, he babbled.

"Rachel, he was about to detonate a bomb! He was going to kill us all, I had to do _something_. It was all so I could protect us, it was my only choice. I wasn't going to let him win by making us suffer anymore. I am _so damn tired_ of suffering. . ." He was cut off by her soft lips on his, silencing him and easing the tension out of his high-strung body. When she pulled away, he looked at her incredulously, not understanding her logic.

"What I was going to say, was that you _saved our lives_. And that I never thanked you for protecting me and saving me." A slow smile spread across her face until it made her glow with happiness. He brought his lips to hers again and savored in the feel of her silky soft lips on his. The taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair, everything about Rachel surrounded him in that moment and he just wanted to drown in her. He wanted to lose himself in her and forget about the past two and a half years like it had never happened. Like they were still teenagers from Lima who were young and in love. Like they hadn't witnessed things that would scar them for life.

He wanted his happy ending, and he was going to get it no matter what.

"Do you still love me?" He was almost afraid to ask the question, worried that she'd say no. That she had seen too much and could never forgive him for what he'd done to her. But he stared in awe as she looked shocked, and maybe even a little offended.

"How can you ask me that? I never stopped loving you Finn. Not even for a second." He took the ring off of his chain and dropped to one knee in front of her. Placing the engraved band on her finger for the second time, he looked up into her glowing face, and smiled.

"Rachel, will you still marry me?"

"Yes, Finn Hudson. I will still marry you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So, how was it?" Puck took a deep swig of his beer as Finn kept an eye on Rachel and Quinn who were on their third round of Frogger. Now that he remembered how much he loved video games, they practically lived at Barcade these days. Confused at his question, he turned around to face his best friend as he killed his beer.

"How was what, man?" Puck looked at him like he was insane and snickered.

"The make-up sex, bro! Two and a half years without fucking? You guys must have exploded!" He grinned like the horny bastard he was while he asked the bartender for another Brooklyn Ale. Finn laughed to himself. Puck and Quinn hadn't been aware that they'd been sleeping together before his memories had returned, but they didn't need to know that. And in fact, the reunion sex _had_ been mind-blowing, so he really did have something to brag about.

"Pretty awesome, dude." He grinned like the Cheshire cat while Puck gave him a high five.

"Man, it was so fucking weird to talk to you like you didn't know me. And I only thought that amnesia shit happened on soap operas. It was insanity." Puck clapped Finn on the shoulder and shook it playfully. "But I'm glad you're back, Finn. You're a fucking hero and shit!" He lifted up his beer and shouted out for the whole bar to hear. "This man here is a hero! If it wasn't for him, half you fuckers would be dead!" OK, no more beer for Puck after this one. . .

"Knock it off, ass. You're embarrassing me." Puck chugged the beer and grinned widely while they sat at the bar and waited for the girls to finish their game. Finn looked over at Puck who still had a goofy drunk grin on his face. "Dude, I never thanked you."

Puck turned around to him and shrugged his shoulders. "For what?"

"For keeping your promise." Recognition crossed Puck's features and the grin slid away from his face. "For looking after Rachel when I wasn't here."

He could tell Puck was uncomfortable. He was never the kind of guy who expressed his feelings very easily. "Shut the fuck up, _Finnessa_. As if I was gonna break my promise. Puckasaurus never goes back on his word." But then he lifted his hand up and they bumped fists amicably.

For a horny douche, Puck could be an amazing friend sometimes.

Finn paid the tab for both of their drinks, even though Puck had threatened to punch him over it. (_"I ain't no bitch!")_ After Finn told him about the check he'd received from the government though, Puck mandated that he always buy the drinks from that point on. _("Fucking hero money.")_

Later that night, after Finn and Rachel had made love and were cuddled together in the soft afterglow of sex, she curled her body around him and sighed blissfully. He was so lucky to have her back, to finally remember who he was and what his purpose was in life. He didn't know what he was going to do with his life yet, but he had all the time in the world to decide. He had Rachel, he had friends, he had plenty of money, and he had his whole life ahead of him.

Life couldn't get any better.

Suddenly, he remembered something that he'd been too pre-occupied to think about before. In a panic, he shot up in bed and scared Rachel so badly she let out a small scream. "Finn! You scared me! What's the matter?" He jumped out of bed and ran for his cell phone, ignoring Rachel as she stared at him in shock.

"Hello, I need two tickets to Ohio, for your next flight. First class." He was going to have to learn to balance his hero money in the future, but for now, he was gonna splurge. He made the travel arrangements as Rachel stared at him incredulously from the bed.

"Finn Hudson," Uh-oh, she only used his full name now when he was in trouble. "You tell me what's going on right this minute!"

He hung up the phone and smiled at her. "Pack your bags, Rach. There's someone we need to visit."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Nostalgia filled him to the brim as he stood outside of his childhood home. In all of the emotional drama of the aftermath of Charef, he had never reached out to his poor Mother, who had been separated from her only son for over two and a half years. He could remember the letter he wrote her, back when he couldn't even remember what she'd looked like. He couldn't begin to imagine how that letter had affected her, and he wanted nothing more than to see her again. She had been his only family for so long, his only real family. Rachel held his hand on the sidewalk outside of his house while she waited for him to make a move.

"I can go home if you want to be alone. I'll visit my dads while you have some time with your mom." He shook his head and squeezed her hand tightly, bringing her as close to him as possible.

"No. I want you to be here." He shot her an excited smile and the couple started to walk up to the front door. Finn rang the doorbell, and waited anxiously. He could practically hear the blood pounding in his ears.

After a tense minute, the door started to open, and he saw the silhouette of his mother, standing in the doorway. She took one look at Finn, and she looked like she was staring at a ghost.

"Finn?" She placed a hand to her mouth in shock as the tears started to fill her eyes. "Baby?"

That was when he lost it.

Ever since the day he joined the army, he'd been trying so hard to keep his emotions in check, to be the heroic soldier that everyone had expected him to be. Now that he was just Finn Hudson again, a small-town boy from Lima, Ohio, he didn't need those barriers anymore.

He was just a boy who'd missed his mama.

"Mom!" He pushed into the house and took his mother into his arms. When he was a baby, she used to hold him just like this. I used to make him feel like the most loved son in the world. She hadn't been able to hug him like this since he had his massive growth spurt at 12, but now he held onto his mom in the same way while they both cried.

They stood there for a while in the Hudson family living room, crying and hugging and talking. Carole had hugged Rachel until the girl had turned blue, and they spent the entire afternoon talking about Finn, and what had happened to him. Carole had been incredulous when she learned that Finn had been Rachel's bodyguard without even knowing that they'd been engaged. They left out the part about the international terrorist almost killing them though; a mother could only take so much.

"Well, now that you're back, Rachel and I have some serious planning to do!" He watched as the two women he loved more than anything in his life shared equal looks of excitement.

"Planning for what?" He frowned when they started to giggle, and Rachel beamed at him while Carole clapped her hands together.

"The wedding!" Carole squeaked out happily. "It's still on, isn't it?"

He looked over at Rachel, who had never looked happier than in that one moment. He took his hand in hers and kissed the back of it, his lips lingering on her ring. Their names were still shining on the band and he smiled.

"Oh yeah, it's on."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Salut mes amis!

One more chapter to go! Wedding Bells are gonna ring!

Until Next Time. . . *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


	18. Forever Yours

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and Fox. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

A/N: ET VOILA! The FINAL chapter of Hero. Words cannot express what this story meant to me, and see the end of the story for the fully detailed THANK YOUS I have written for my friends and fans. The Minsk loves you all!

**Hero**

**Chapter Eighteen: Forever Yours**

Standing in front of a full length mirror, Rachel Berry clutched her bouquet in her hands as she looked over herself for the millionth time. Everything about today had to be perfect. It just HAD to be.

Her eyes roamed over every inch of her immaculate white gown, looking for signs of any wrinkle, any spot or tear. If something happened to her dress within the next ten minutes her world would collapse, she was sure of it. It was no Vera Wang, but she had spent weeks and weeks picking out this dress, and she was in love with the way the white fabric wrapped around her midriff and expanded out into a long and gorgeous train. She shuffled from foot to foot, trying to get used to the heels she was wearing. Of course she just _had_ to marry a man who was ridiculously tall, and she would be damned if she looked like a midget next to her soon-to-be-husband in all of her wedding photos. All she had to do was keep her balance until the reception, and then she could take these death traps off and switch into more comfortable shoes.

She was about to fiddle with the veil on her head when she felt someone come up from behind her and give her shoulders a squeeze. It was her almost Mother-in-law, Carole, and her smile was wide and beaming as she soaked in the image of the young bride. Looking at their reflection in the mirror, Rachel smiled softly and could see that Carole was choking back tears.

"You look beautiful, darling." Rachel could hear her voice start to break and she had to take a deep breath to defend herself against any tears. HER MAKEUP WAS ON THE LINE.

"Thank you, Carole. I couldn't have done any of this without you." It was almost an act of God that they were able to get married so quickly. It would be forever documented in Lima gossip that this was the fastest wedding ever planned. Not too many people were happy to receive a save the date for an event that was only three months away, but they had done it. And without Carole's help, none of this would have been possible.

Carole smiled warmly and adjusted the veil on her head so it laid properly. "Of course, dear. This was the day we've been planning for years. I was more than happy to help." She circled around the girl, making sure she looked perfect. "And after today you can call me "Mom!'"

Rachel stilled in her pristine gown. Mom? She'd never had a mom before. She never thought she'd have someone to plan weddings with, or gossip with. Someone who she could look up to. The only other Mother in her life hadn't wanted her, and now Carole was here extending the offer like it was the most natural thing in the world. She had always liked Carole, but now she had an affection for the woman that she had never felt before. And if she was going to have a mom, she was happy it was Carole. She was truly an amazing woman. "Carole?"

"Yes dear?"

She turned around to the older woman and smiled. "I've never had a mom before. But I'm glad Finn has a mom like you. I'm ready. Let's do this." The two women walked out of the small changing room and met up with the other members of Rachel's bridal party. Quinn, her Maid of Honor, gave her a thumbs up from the makeup chair where she was getting the finishing touches done on her outfit. She was able to get both Mercedes and Tina to fly in for the wedding to be bridesmaids, and they ran up to her in tears over her dress.

"Ladies, ladies! You are going to mess up your amazing outfits. All waterworks must cease!" If they started crying, then she was going to cry, and did she mention how everything had to be perfect? BECAUSE IT DID.

But that all almost flew out the window when both of her fathers entered the room, waiting to walk their only little girl down the aisle. _Don't cry Rachel, save the sentimentality for after the wedding. _

"You ready, baby girl?" Leroy reached out for his daughters hand while the other bridesmaids, Carole and Quinn, left the room to go wait in line. Hiram grabbed hold of the other arm as the two father's prepared themselves to walk their only daughter down the aisle.

It was everything she had ever dreamed of and more.

Every girl fantasizes about their wedding. And if a girl says they don't, they're straight-up lying. So for Rachel, this was a big deal in more ways than one. She had been entertaining fantasies of marrying Finn Hudson since she was 16 years old! How many nights had she fallen asleep to the image of Finn in a tuxedo, waiting for her to marry him? How many years had she waited for him to finally come home, so he could keep his promise to her?

But that didn't matter now. Because on the other side of that thick, wooden door, was a church filled with everyone she had ever known.

And Finn was waiting for her.

It hadn't been easy, recovering from their ordeal. As happy as they were to finally be reunited, there were some things that they were still dealing with. Finn had been suffering from nightmares, especially of the times when he had no memory of his life. He would wake up sometimes so confused about where he was, that she had to spend half the night reassuring him that he wasn't in Tajikistan or Afghanistan anymore. That he was home and safe and his name was Finn Hudson and he was a hero. He always remembered, but those moments of confusion and desperation always scared her to death. Sometimes he slipped on the names of old acquaintances or couldn't remember where he'd put his keys. They were tiny slips, normally unnoticeable, but Rachel noticed everything when it came to Finn.

But things were getting better, slowly. Deep wounds needed time to heal.

She stood with her fathers outside of the church, her heart beating faster than ever before. This waiting, this anticipation, was worse than any stage fright she'd ever experienced in her life in theatre. This was really happening.

She was getting married today.

She held onto her father's arms like her life depended on it when she heard the loud organ begin the opening chords of the wedding march. She watched with a glowing smile as her wedding party went out in front of her, and waited anxiously for the cue to walk down the aisle and marry the man of her dreams.

She took one step forward in her high heeled shoes, and fell unceremoniously to the floor, twisting her ankle, and screaming in pain.

_No. No no no, this isn't happening. This cannot be happening right now!_ She tried to put a little pressure on her foot and she had to stifle another cry of pain. She sat in horror as her eyes started to tear up, and she almost screamed when she wiped away a black, makeup-filled tear.

Her ankle was twisted.

Her makeup was smudged.

Her dress was on the ground.

Her wedding was officially ruined.

"Rachel!" "Baby!" Her dads spoke in unison as they tried to pick their daughter up off of the floor. She could hear her cue, hear the people standing up in the aisles, waiting for her to make her grand entrance.

She refused to move from the floor.

"Honey, are you okay?" Her daddy tried once again to pick her off of the floor, but she crossed her arms in front of her chest and refused to move. This had been her one and only chance to give Finn the wedding that they had been dreaming about for years. And now she was an injured crying mess and her gorgeous gown was on the floor. THE FLOOR. She heard the organ music pause in the background, and the murmur of her guests filled the small entrance.

"I can't do this. I can't go out there like this!" She screamed with her head in her hands while her daddy picked her off of the floor. He was able to help her limp over to the closest chair, and when she looked up, her other father was missing.

"What happened to Dad, Daddy?" He had just been here a second ago. . .

He looked a bit guilty while pointing to the main hall of the church. "I think he went to go get Finn."

Her watery, bloodshot eyes almost popped out of her head. "NO!" This was not supposed to happen! The groom was NEVER supposed to see the bride before the wedding! What had happened to all of her staunch and specific planning? Her image of a perfect wedding was now ruined and they were going to be cursed with bad luck for the rest of their lives. Now she couldn't care less if her makeup was ruined, the tears were flowing and they wouldn't stop.

"Rachel?" Hearing Finn's voice only made her cry harder. It wasn't supposed to be like this! "What happened?" She refused to look up at her groom-to-be; she was ashamed at how disheveled she looked on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Instead, he crouched down onto his haunches in his tuxedo, and lifted up her face by her chin to make eye contact with him.

She had to suppress another round of tears. He looked perfect. He looked so dapper in his tuxedo and a brilliant smile was on his face. His hair had finally grown back to its full thickness, hiding the various scars he had received from the accident. His gaze was soft as he took in her crumpled state, and he held onto her face gently, brushing his thumb along the expanse of her jaw.

He looked like a prince, while she looked like a bridezilla.

"Everything is ruined!" She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation while Finn looked on in shock. "Everything I planned, everything I imagined, its all ruined now! I can't even walk down the aisle at my own wedding." She pointed at her feet and Finn lifted up the bottom of her dress to remove her shoes. "What am I going to do?" The tears threatened to spill over again as she saw her ankle begin to swell.

"You're going to get married." Was his simple reply.

"How could I, when everything I planned was ruined?" She felt miserable on the one day she was supposed to feel invincible. "I wanted everything to be perfect for you. After everything we've been through I just wanted this one thing to be perfect."

She heard Finn chuckle gently and she looked up at her almost-husband and frowned. "Rachel, everything _is_ perfect." She looked up with doubt in her gaze and his smile was glowing, wide, and full of joy. "How long have we been waiting for this?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "Almost three years now, I guess." Three years, had it really been that long?

"So why should it matter? I haven't been waiting all this time so I can appreciate the flower arrangements. I've been waiting to marry _you_." He grabbed onto both of her hands and his voice grew thick with emotion. "Everything that could have gone wrong in the past, went wrong. Now that we're so close to finally getting married, you're going to let a twisted ankle get in your way? What happened to Rachel Berry, the girl who headbutted an international terrorist?" A small chuckle escaped her lips and his smile grew more pronounced. All of a sudden, she felt herself being lifted up, bridal-style, into his arms and she let out a small shriek.

"Finn, what are you doing?"

"Leroy, Hiram, get the train. We are getting married even if I have to carry her down the aisle."

And he did. Leroy ran back into the church and Rachel could hear the music starting up again. The doors opened, and every eye in the church was focused on the groom carrying his own bride down the aisle. When they got to the Rabbi at the front of the church, (Finn respected Hiram's request that they have a Jewish ceremony) he looked at the two of them with a mix of shock and amusement.

"Well that's something I've never seen before, let's get you two married before something else goes wrong!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The ceremony was beautiful. Besides the one snafu of twisting her ankle, the rest of the ceremony had gone perfectly to plan.

Except for the part when Finn couldn't smash the glass at then end. He had to step on it about four times before the damn glass broke. Traditions could really be annoying sometimes.

Rachel was sitting at the head of the table, watching while her guests danced at her reception. Her ankle was swollen and aching, but she was going to be okay. She was more upset that she wouldn't be able to dance at her own wedding. But she would survive.

At least her _husband_ was still at her side.

She looked over at Finn and couldn't help but smile as she watched him chat with the other members of their bridal party who weren't up and dancing. She was foolish to think that anything they planned would turn out perfectly; maybe they just had bad luck. But at least they were finally married, and they had their whole lives ahead of them. She had school and theatre, and he had a part-time job as a military analyst for Homeland Security while he went to school. Yeah, he might have quit the Army, but he was still able to put his training to good use without being in combat. It was a glorified desk job, but he was happy. And as long as he was happy and out of danger, she was fine with him working for the government.

She knew she was probably interrupting his conversation, but she slipped her hand in his anyway and gave it a light squeeze. He turned around to her, giving her his undivided attention.

"Yes, my lovely _wife_?" He said it with a smile and she thrilled to the word. She was now Finn's _wife_.

"Well, _husband_," A huge grin graced his features as he squeezed her hand. "I'm jealous of our guests because they get to dance while I can't."

He picked up their entwined hands and kissed the back of hers, lingering there for a moment before standing up and walking towards the DJ. "I can fix that." She watched in awe as he took the mic and addressed the hall filled with their friends and family.

"Hello, everyone. Rachel and I hope you're all having a great time, but I have received a special request from my injured wife that I need to fulfill." Finn smiled at Rachel from his spot on the makeshift stage while he leaned over and whispered something to the DJ. "Everyone off of the dance floor. This song is for my wife." She watched as her guests walked away from the dance floor leaving it empty. Finn walked up to her and steadied her on her good ankle, helping her walk while she leaned on him for support. He still had the mic, and he looked at her while he addressed the crowd.

"Five years ago, I was just a dumb-ass kid who couldn't tell the difference between Mozart and Megadeath. I played sports and sang in glee club and tried way too hard to be cool. I met an awesome girl and fell head over heels in love with her. Pretty much my life in a nutshell." All eyes were on them as Finn continued his speech. He took a deep breath and the tone of the speech changed drastically. "A lot of people throw the word 'hero' around when they talk to me now. They think I'm some great, strong person, when most of the time I still feel like that dorky kid who could barely dance." He looked down at Rachel, at his bride and smiled warmly. "To me, Rachel is the true hero." She had to hold onto his tuxedo lapel to steady herself, she thought she might faint. "She stood by me when I decided to join the army, and never gave up on me after I went missing." She could feel the tears pool in her eyes. "She even loved me when I didn't even know I _was_ me, if that makes any sense at all." His voice echoed around the hall and she saw some of her guests wiping away tears. "She is stronger and braver than any person I have ever known, and while I might be the one with the badges and medals, Rachel is the true hero of my life. She saved me. In more ways than one." Now she was the one who was wiping away tears. "I love you Rachel; my wife, my hero."

Finn handed the microphone back to the DJ and helped support her on the dance floor while the opening chords to their wedding song began. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he held her tightly around the waist, making sure she was stable. She couldn't dance properly, but the married couple started to sway softly to the music that filled the banquet hall. The soft piano intro filled Rachel's heart with nostalgia as Steve Perry's iconic vocals filled the room.

_Highway run, into the midnight sun_

_Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind_

"Remember when we sang this song for glee?" He whispered into her ear as they swayed to the beat.

_Restless hearts sleep alone tonight_

_Sending all my love along the wire_

"Yeah, and we lost terribly." She said with a lilt of nostalgia.

He chuckled softly. "And I told you I loved you for the first time."

_They say that the road ain't no place to start a family_

_Right down the line it's been you and me_

"Yeah." What else could she say? That was the day her life with Finn had truly started.

"It really is our song, you know?"

_And loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be_

_Oh girl, you stand my me_

"Yeah, it really is."

_I'm forever yours faithfully._

"I love you, Rachel."

"I love you, too, Finn."

No matter what had happened to them, no matter what obstacles they'd had to face, it had all come down to this moment. Their scars, their wounds, were all in the past. Their lives were like a blank slate now, and they were ready to start a new and exciting life together. He might have been a soldier, and she might have been an actress, but they were more than that now.

They were husband and wife.

He was her hero.

And she was his.

And they were ready to start their forever, together.

**THE END**

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OK, there are literally tears on my keyboard, so I'm going to make this quick.

First and foremost, I thank each and every person who read this story. If you ever left me a review or a message or replied one of my tweets, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You gave me the encouragement and support I needed to continue this story, and I will never forget the feedback I received from you all.

More specifically, I would like to thank the fabulous friends I have made in the glee fandom. Without you all I probably would have stopped writing a long time ago. I know most of you by twitter name, and some by FF names, so bear with me! (AND IF I FORGET ANYONE I LOVE YOU AND I'M SORRY) mshope813, adlervan, njfisher, stephanever, RSDSIL3NT, pnuts_mama, akpierce, meeshyglee, elimaru, kcmmp13, OctoberDana, jennlynne9, Dream Writer 4 Life, Live and Alone, Lilasian155

I know there are plenty more people, and I love you all, but my mind is all messed up from the fact that HERO IS FINALLY OVER. **SOBS**

If you haven't yet, follow me on twitter TheMinsk. On my twitter, it's all glee, all the time!

So until next time, my dearest friends... *sings* Don't Stop. . .Reviewing!

Merci Mille Fois

The Minsk


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